In comparing you to a frosty nightI find you nibble my fingers and lipsAs the jack o’ lantern sheds its pale lightYou warm my blood with your velveteen nips. Silver buckled shoe and dainty stockingAqua and gold stripes make up your disguiseCut against the stars, your voice is mockingYour vibrant eyes reveal feminine lies. I... Continue Reading →

Starting somewhat harmless, some time agoSoaping, egging, other mischievous pranksThese acts then morphed into a tale of woeArson and deeds not deserving of thanks Each year on the night before HalloweenArsonists would light up Detroit with frightHouses and buildings in flames were the sceneThis devastation known as Devil’s Night Eight hundred fires in Nineteen Eighty... Continue Reading →

At Halloween, I'd like to meet a ghostbecause they're spooky and exciting too:a knight-in-armour ghoul would thrill me most;I wouldn't be scared, even if he said,'Whooo!' I'd like to take a ride on a ghost trainwith a headless driver and skeleton staffserving mice and rats fresh from the drainwith witches' brew to make passengers laugh.... Continue Reading →

The last night of October was pitch darkThe moon took a day off to go on a holidayThere was a strange stillness in the parkAll was hushed and quiet after a busy dayThere was no breeze to rustle the leavesShadowy trees loomed eerily all aroundNot a single squirrel scampered across the eavesNor a beetle scurried... Continue Reading →

With bitter regret, mine heart's been ladenSince Hallowmas when thou our bed-vow brokeAnd now perjured be roam I loath-burdenedWaiting for the day this prank I do choke Post hoc thine eyes see I as woeful shameThe smartest joke thine evils fortifiedNow my dreamy languor's found a new aimTo maim and deflate thou who art still... Continue Reading →

I’m not one for scary goblins or ghostsindeed I much prefer birds and flowersuntil I met a raven who dare boastsabout his huge beak vomiting showers of slimy creepy crawlies for some hoursas flocks of big beaked birds came hurtling downfelt freaky, like they had scary powersfear arose that creepy crawlies would drown Hitchcock touched... Continue Reading →

This is a sonnet at the witching hourthe moon is high, the wind moans through the treesdead leaves and petals dance from every bowerand flutter down, borne on the autumn breeze to stone cold earth, to rot and decomposeas death's cold season draws on, ever nearera single, late blooming and blood-red rosetempts with its scent,... Continue Reading →