Thursday, October 19, 2006

From the censer of John T Ahearn....

* * *
All Hallows’ Eve

When the aliens have landed and are gone,
and the goblins' sugared path has seen them past
the sticky monsters dotting every lawn,
and homeward wends the whole unlikely cast,
we quench the pumpkin, flip the top lock on,
and fire another log. Alone at last.

We gather darkness to us to defeat
the greedy stragglers' businesslike demands,
settle to a silence so complete
that ghosts in their accustomed shadowlands
begin to haunt the walls, begging sweets.
Ourselves. Our own unfledged and awkward hands.

* * *
John the Blogless is a poet and writer

4 comments:

pundy said...

Minx

I'm so pleased you published that. I guess you know already that I think John is a pretty damned good poet. Maybe better than that, in fact. I don't know how he does it but every phrase is full of meaning, redolent of emotion. I'm delighted you like him too. It's great to share these pleasures.

Minx said...

No comment Pundy, can't and won't, not until the competition is over. So get your finger out of that novel, sharpen your poetry pencil (and I know that you own one) and write a poem for Samhain!!!

Susan Abraham said...

Very nice, Minx.

Debi said...

John may be Blogless but is s-o-o talented ...