Monday, October 31st 2005, by Marissa A Spencer
On Hallow’s Eve
Be careful where you walk my lad when ye walk into the moor
Score’s been lost at such a cost beyond some demon’s door
The lights will beckon lonely souls to search ‘mongst stone and glen
With weeping that floats out each night when they ne’er return again.
On Hallow’s Eve the ghouls do walk and sport amidst the heather
The skies do darken; clouds do roll and make unholy weather.
All that is found upon the ground are prints that fade away
Yet the stench it lingers nigh, in spite of time o’ day
So blight that wand’ring gaze that seeks the hillock and the vale
Stay close to the fire lad, hist not the Shade’s ill trail
Best to live the safer life beside the tried and true
Don’t ye go there my lad, whatever ye may do
For o’er the great mantle piece sets the list of all the missing,
Those that wander’d where dogs howl and gets the cats a’ hissing.
I set a candle there each night for those long lost, to pray,
Those that braved the evil moors and with their souls did pay.
Marissa A Spencer
© October 29, 2000
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