Click here to hear the poet read his words:
ghosts of love
Hallowe’en is a night full of magic
when candles in turnips shine bright in the dark
nervous folk fear spirits will venture forth
but the ghosts are only real in my heart
Hallowe’en is a night full of laughter
children dress up and go out in disguise
they find chocolate and old-fashioned pastimes
and the ghosts are only seen by my eyes
Hallowe’en is a night full of mystery
witches ride broomsticks and slide down moonbeams
warlocks conspire to make mischief
but the ghosts only live in my dreams
Hallowe’en is a night of festivity
of parties and games and great fun
when the oldest and youngest all celebrate
and the ghosts are still here though you’re gone
Wonderful language of magic and mystery – witches sliding down moonbeams, fabulous – mischief, fun and festivity.
(Delighted the turnip has its place too.)
Such a sharp contrast with the sadness the poet’s ghosts bring: ‘the ghosts are still here though you’re gone.’
Powerfully done.
Thanks, Jenne, Hallowe’en is a strange mix of traditions and superstitions mingled in with the bairns’ laughter.