Monthly Archives: October 2017

Werewolf’s Lament

Through lonely streets and alleys dank, dewy cold and sorely rank I slink away from revel’s call, pressed in fear against the wall of red bricked points that lead the way to secret blinds where I can stay safely hid from what I fear will call tonight within the drear of hallows eve, of tricks and treats, of screams and cries in haunted streets, beneath the swollen moon.

As dusk betrays the light of day, I lock the door behind me, pray that ne’er my curse escape beyond this cell to find what I’ve become, where haunted by October moon I’d find I’d grown to beastly swoon submerged in gore and rancor filled, not knowing of the blood there spilled! I writhe in horror waiting, until the full moon’s tide is trading, all coming much too soon.

Hidden in the hedgerow’s thick I smell the blood, my heart is sick, for o’er my torn and ragged clothes is death’s black art from murdered throws, of those who met my poisoned soul, ripped to bits of meat and bone, who in their death and ashen white, were terrified to run or fight, and now are left in doom’s malaise, while I, the wolf, retreat quite dazed, beneath the setting moon!

Now as I slink from death’s parlay, toward secret rooms and hideaways, I hear the town in echoed call, screaming, crying, searching all, while I decry the wrong I’ve done, my body shrinks in flesh and bone, claws and fangs withdraw to mine! Remorse and shredded clothes a sign that I am death and so in cursed to bare each victim to its hearse, and splatter red October’s moon!

In horror’s grip I weep the last for all of those I’ve killed and passed beyond the shores of Styx and death! With sadness and remorse I’m left, to pray for justice, pray to die, hope to end this living lie, but still each day continues on! Wading through each season’s song! Fearing only ashen moons that bath the nights in lovers’ swoons, that tempts the wolf within me out! To kill in terror! Stalk about, until the night is through! Hoping that I won’t find you!

Happy Halloween!!!!

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Filed under Halloween, Poetry

October Lea

Strewn across the empty lea,
in ribbon frayed and broken,
a tiny path runs from the woods,
in steps of time, in whispers spoken.

The summer grass recedes in bows,
homage to the years gone by,
demarking every thought there,
every mark a cobbled sigh.

My eyes peer from October woods,
my heart in longing feels the tone,
ochre, amber, velvet brown,
the season’s scent, the ancient loan
that burns the colors through the dale,
retreats in aging silver grey,
steely eyed and captured cold,
stark against the rill in play.

I find my melancholy heart,
aching, longing setting in,
as crisp the autumn winds reveal
the sweetest scent, the saddest sin.

For as this aging lingers,
as quickly as it stops me cold,
this lea is all that matters,
this path and all its stories told…

In summer’s fold they tarried,
in waist high grass they danced and sang,
laughing, loving, holding hands,
silent woods in echo rang.
Here upon the forest floor,
they fell together leaving all,
igniting life’s elixir sweet,
heeding love as lover’s call.
Yet prattling winds betray their time,
suspended in October’s hush,
returns a shy and sacred kiss
upon a hue of lover’s blush.

The sun denied to shine,
yet balanced grey across the scene,
in hint of coming winter snow,
a lonesome breeze rolls through, serene.

The shadowed woods deny my stead,
a sheltered voice stems high,
leaves and rustling brush rejoice,
as with his mare, a boy strides by.
A ghostly apparition,
opaque and fine as cobweb’s spin,
his words unto the aging nag
are soft and kind, sweetly thin.
Upon the rugged path they step,
into the lea, into the stream,
as errant rays of sunbeam fall,
releasing sparks of silver dreams.

Across the drying autumn grass,
a scent of barn, of oats and hay,
wafts my tensile senses through,
begging me to stay.

Alas, my moments falter,
my stage as witness through this time,
measured in the living,
counted meters of this rhyme.
This life reflects in pausing,
where truths run thick in histories’ hold,
begging none go quietly,
urging strength in growing old.

And so it is I tarry,
softly strolling o’er the lea,
whispering quiet simple truths
here in the heart of me.

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Filed under Autumn, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

The Inexplicable Story

As recalled by Geoffrey Chaucer while traveling with the Queen

“Hold fast the lantern Beauregard, her lifted skirt sees light of day!”,
while as I told the dog to sit, I looked the other way.

For all is right in Flanders when castles turn to shades of poor,
but things just got sidewayser, when once her panties hit the floor…

She grabbily garbled gobbly-gook guffawing at her silly scene,
till seeing lace around her shoes, she blushed in peach and loudly screamed!

“My dear! My God! what happened here, how did this come to be?”,
and as her crown came tumbling down I closed my eyes so not to see.

“Oh Geoffrey! Geoff! Good gracious! My! Good Heavens and a cracker stew!
It seems I’ve lost my underpants and kicked them there to you!”

I glanced in shock upon the floor and there beside my muddy boot,
laid lace and floral lingerie, lightly smeared with blackened soot.

“Dear Queen!” my broken cracking voice exclaimed in instant shock,
how could it be at 90 plus her Majesty can walk?

Let alone the giggling presence to lose her clothes in Palace Square.
I raised the panties with a stick and held them in the air.

“Oh my!”, she squealed, “Those must be mine! How will this ever do?”,
while grabbing quick the lacey stuff, and politely stepping through…

Ruffle pressing prattling, she stoically stood and raised a grin,
“If ever I come back to your city, I pray that you’ll let me in.

Good day….”

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Filed under History, Poetry

The Elm, the Dusk, and the Nightingale

Day recoils in silence. Autumn’s warmth gives way to dusk.
Beneath this meadow’s elm I pause, released in freedom from the husk of what this life’s become.
Summer wanes in crescent waves shaped to crash on winter’s shore,
haunting sweeter memories, from here within my open door as soul reflects the sum.

Golden sparks of eyelash glint through whispers of their closing,
that as the long rays reach for me, this tired mind retreats in dozing, beneath an ochre sky.
Subtle breezes, hushed and curved, kiss wisps of hair in amber glint,
draws an easy charcoaled line around this space where pausing’s spent, shyly asking “why?”

This gift for quiet passing, this time where I belong,
is all my heart is asking, heaving sighs in weary song, as praying just to stay.
Suspended weightless, bathed in dusk, the nightingale decries her mate,
comes to me on rush of wings to ease my passing state, till echoed light drifts grey.

Till darkness does enfold me, till crickets warn the length of night,
I wake to find my lonely peace draped o’er my arms in sparkled light retrieved from evening’s dawn.
Now calmly through the lea I stroll, pausing, counting, dew’s sweet scent,
toward home and bed my steps oblige, emptied in the moment’s spent and carried on her song.

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Filed under Autumn, Dreams, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul