“On Hallow’s Eve” – a poem

On Hallow’s Eve the wind is still
The fog hangs low; an icy chill
Unease is floating in the mist
Whilst Satan’s child unrolls their list
The ghouls emerge from muddy tombs
And ghosts return, to haunt, in rooms
The headless man, the murdered child
The werewolf howl, the Virgin, defiled
A ghoulish stench is in the air
Whilst kids knock on doors without a care
“Trick or treat” they screech with glee
Expecting sweet confectionary
Pumpkins carved, traditional fare
Costume persona, worn for a dare
Whilst undead drag their severed limbs
And in the churchyard, chanting hymns
A troubled priest who died too soon
The mist is creeping round the tombs
And now the midnight hour strikes
A skeleton crew drift by, on bikes
A spectre in a spinning scene
Emits a chilling, bloody scream
Ectoplasm floats in swirling curl
Around the grave of a forgotten girl
Spiders spin a wicked web
A troubled maiden carries her head
Severed by the guillotine blade
In century’s past, where memory fades
All wickedness, here in one place
Presenting evil in the human race
Reminder of the plight of man
In only the way that Hallowe’en can
Then comes the dawning of a new day
To chase the howling spirits away
So ends the unholy cacophony
When spells are cast, round a crooked tree
A witches brew to stop the hosts
And laid to rest, the ghoulish ghosts
Then, All Saints Day is welcomed in
And incantations, dispel the sin
So peace is restored for another year
Til Hallow’s Eve brings a fresh bout of fear

In Fawke’s Name – a poem

The dusk is filled with stars and Magic
the smell of bonfires is in the air
The light is piercing thru clouds a-crack’d
Whilst verdant leaves are burnt in their lair

Jack Frost hasn’t paid a visit
He’s unwelcome for a month or two
But Jack-o-Lantern’s burning brightly
In the smoky, dusky hue

Early eve as dark as midnight
Scorpio’s shadow looms ever near
Promises of rainbow explosions
Expectant feeling in the air

Then comes the time for burning powder
Light the blue touch, watch the sky
Autumn’s festival upon us
Whilst nature’s kind hide nervously by

The foxes care not for loud explosions
The blackbird’s song is silenced by flame
Domestic pets will hide and glower
Whilst fun is had in Fawke’s name

My 70’s – a poem

Remembering the 70s
the memories flow fast with ease
Halcyon days spent by the beach
When adulthood seemed out of reach
Simple street games played with friends
and long hot summers that never end
School day memories I preciously hold
with scores of stories to be told
Aviation projects and balloon fights
concrete playgrounds, watching fights
Egg and spoon race, sports day fun
Sister Lucy firing the starting gun
Running free and being hip
Seeing John Toshack on a school trip
Glynn Vivian Art where masks were made
Batman play and miming charades
First edition of Smash Hits mag
Skateboards, Penny mix, satchel schoolbag
Gower trips and learning to swim
impromptu priest visits made on a whim
Monday Algebra and spelling tests
Sneakingly the answers on old-fashioned desks
Poetry classes and models of clay
Watching the clock till it’s time to play
Times tables stars displayed on a chart
Friday barrels loaded from the beer cart
Benediction and monthly confession
Signs of the Cross and promises of heaven
Boomtown Rats and Blondie’s beats
Twenty ways with mince, to eat
Three day weeks and electricity rations
Crushes on boys, but too young for the passion
My childhood days are memories to cherish
They’ll stay in my heart til the day that I perish
And when I’m asked about it all
I’ll fondly smile as I vividly recall.