Sonnet at the witching hour

This is a sonnet at the witching hour
the moon is high, the wind moans through the trees
dead leaves and petals dance from every bower
and flutter down, borne on the autumn breeze

to stone cold earth, to rot and decompose
as death’s cold season draws on, ever nearer
a single, late blooming and blood-red rose
tempts with its scent, whose charms could not be clearer

unless the snow lay on the ground and then
the blood drops red would stain its purity
instead, I prick my finger once again
cursing my negligent stupidity

the scent of blood this Halloween Midnight
draws shadows from the woods, as I take flight.

Halloween Sonnet Sunday is here!

Welcome, witch-watchers: prepare for a night flight through fearful scenery…will you hide behind the sofa at the words conjured by our poetry? I will be posting Halloween-themed sonnets at regular intervals throughout the day, and you are welcome to link up one of your own below. Be sure to read the work of others who are taking part…if you dare!

22 thoughts on “Sonnet at the witching hour

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  1. I want to watch the video. Title? — please tell so I can look for it in my area. It shows as unavailable for me. I want to watch. Please.

    The sonnet — scary ma’am. You’re in your element plus scary. Thanks so much. 💕

  2. Suitably spooky Halloween sonnet, Ingrid! I love your last couplet.

    Here’s a laugh for you. My husband and I used to listen a radio station when we were first married that did a “misconstrued lyrics” show. The one for Bad Moon Rising is “There’s a bathroom on the right.” For the longest time, I thought of that every time! 😀

  3. Roses as part of this sonnet at the witching hour makes this a vivid and evocative read! Love it as the kick off to a day of spooky vibes and Halloween fun. 🙂

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