Wednesday 22nd April

And here is another of those old poems.  What?  You thought that nonsense was over, that I had maybe exhausted my little store?  No, there a few more nuts left, squirrelled away for that proverbial– and looking up at the sky, another bloody pouring – day.  This one is called Halloween and was written as soon as I returned from an ill-advised bonfire party.  I wasn’t too happy now I recall.

Halloween

I arrive for the party, six-pack in my hand

Cheerful and hearty – you must understand

I intend to enjoy this, to let myself go

Ignore my own sadness and go with the flow

But bile and bitterness just won’t let me be

The memories stalk me; they can’t set me free

I try to relax, slide in to the mood

I drink too quickly, ignoring the food

Come on in and celebrate

Hot mulled wine we elevate

Bobbing apples in guilty throats

Superior lifestyles, everyone gloats

Those witches masks and pumpkin faces

Mean more to me than these social graces

The bonfire is lit, let’s go outside

At least there are shadows, out here I can hide

A bit too much wine, you thought you felt fine

But witching hours just lengthen

Faces are all masks and nobody asks

Just where you get your inner strength from

The excitement mounts as twelve O’clock approaches

You try to be part of them but loneliness encroaches

Your mind is full of your own ghosts as you quietly leave

As the guests depart their tail-lights gleam

What was it you were doing or trying to achieve

To exorcise demons or re-live another witch-filled dream