Literature
Samhain
Dear sweet Diana,
Your pale silvery face
gleaming brightly and
smiling sweetly
to those souls down below.
Ghosts, ghouls, are amongst
the peaceful tombstones,
they quake with anticipation.
Given tonight, they may dance again.
They are all brown bread,
wishing the hand of time
would go anti-clockwise.
But tonight it doesn't matter,
for the door is open.
It is an odd sight,
Demons and the Fae
dancing the Milonga in
Diana full sweet graces,
and their little bonfire.
The gapes, and gawks
of the blokes amongst the
crowded carriageway.
Turn away quickly,
didn't see a thing.
The carriageway dissipates,
while the skeleton does
his bony jigs, and