Pause

Spring

I take a moment to pause
And smell the sweet scent of rain.
The air is crisp and fresh
As I walk down the lane.

The trees and grass flourish
Becoming a vibrant shade of green.
The flowers peak out of their buds
And in the sun they preen.

Winter is coming to a close
And Spring is in the air.
I pause once more to sigh
And say a little prayer.

May the new life of this season
Bring happiness and peace.
May all the world’s hatred
Breathe in and finally cease.

As written for The Daily Post

Later

Time

How many times
Do I have to remind you
That “later” is a misnomer?
It never arrives.

Later becomes now,
Which becomes later,
Which becomes tomorrow,
Which becomes never.

When will you understand
That time is relative
And nothing ever happens
That you could not prevent?

“Later” is a heartless word
That forgets time and space
And remembers the random thoughts
Of man’s own inadequacies.

Its is not a moment
Or essence of being that
Relates to here and now
But a failing of human existence.

Later is an absence of
Adequacy in endurance,
Tolerance for procrastination,
Endurance of space,
Resilience of excuses.

Written for The Daily Post

You Are Alone Here

I stand here
letting the rain
soak
through my body
and into my soul.

I stand here
on her grave
looking
through tear-filled eyes
at her name
carved in stone.

I stand here
as the sun comes out
and warms my cold body
watching
as the sun glistens
on the raindrops
that settled
on her name.

I stand here
cold and uncaring
hopelessly lost
in sorrow
and desperately afraid.

Originally written on January 10, 1993

Minions of Night

Picture borrowed from: http://sandara.deviantart.com/art/halloween-141400112 Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Picture borrowed from:
http://sandara.deviantart.com/art/halloween-141400112
Copyright remains that of the original owner.

The mistress of the night

Set forth her minions

Ordered to cause fright

Throughout all her dominions

Wreaking havoc throughout

All the lands near and far

Evil is what they are about

Devilish is what they are

No one is safe

From the games they play

Not even a waif

An elf or fey

All were subject

To the mistress of the night

Everyone must respect

This magical sprite

16 LINES

Inspired by:  31 days of Halloween Contest

Cemetery of Lives

The cemetery was dark and damp.

Spirits hovered ‘round to live their past.

Many Halloweens have come and gone.

Their essence does linger and last.

 

The trees groan with the wind’s might.

The grass creaks with their endless plight.

The hallowed ground cries forevermore.

The lives they lived are nevermore.

 

The cemetery is a sacred place.

The headstones hold the stories of times gone by.

Of life and love and truth and lies.

Forever will the gods hear them cry.

 

Inspired by:  31 Days of Halloween Contest

Picture borrowed from: http://starscoldnight.deviantart.com/art/Cemetery-II-Bg-Premade-254626942 Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Picture borrowed from:
http://starscoldnight.deviantart.com/art/Cemetery-II-Bg-Premade-254626942
Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Nature of the Witch

Picture borrowed from: http://vikachaeeta.deviantart.com/art/Witch-74668012 Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Picture borrowed from:
http://vikachaeeta.deviantart.com/art/Witch-74668012
Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Colorful leaves falling to scatter on the ground.

The soft wind was blowing as the young one frowned.

She didn’t wish to disappoint ancestors long since gone.

The party was to last until the coming dawn.

 

She gathered the leaves to use for decoration.

She didn’t need an unusual complication.

The air smelled like the coming of the rains.

She didn’t need the added pains.

 

The life of a witch was dependent on nature.

Sometimes it could be quite the adventure.

The rain will hold off for just enough time.

The party would be quite sublime.

 

Inspired by:  31 Days of Halloween Contest

Revenge of a Scarecrow

Scaring children is what I do best

Crows dislike the way I am dressed

Arms that do not move around

Real life does truly astound

Evil thoughts keep me alive

Caring not for what they strive

Revenge is what I seek

On the man who made me weak

Waiting in this desolation as a Scarecrow

Picture borrowed from: http://www.doctorwhotv.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/scarecrow-human-nature-family-of-blood.jpg Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Picture borrowed from:
http://www.doctorwhotv.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/scarecrow-human-nature-family-of-blood.jpg
Copyright remains that of the original owner.

Inspired by:  31 Days of Halloween Contest and Doctor Who:  The Family of Blood