Perils Night

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For one Night only amid the Pall

Of fleeting days that come with Fall

Into that time of lengthy nights

Come Harvest Moon and candy Rites

For this night only Perils walk

And Nightmares wake as mortals gawk

Upon odd Folk on festooned streets

Marauders bent on taking Treats

For one night only alive They seem

To Whimsic frolic as if a dream

To Caper and Croon til Cock will Crow

With fierce abandon They bestow

For one night only We join the Fest

And add our glee to glamour’s Best

To mix Within and earn Their pass

To hide ourselves amid the Mass

For this night only too soon will end

Sun will rise and Barrier mend

They’ll draw away as if a wand

Had swept them off to Their Beyond

For this night only You too will pine

To be among those few Sublime

Who in Their turn will watch and wait

For warmer Seasons to abate

For this night only They will Return

As surely as the candles Burn

And once more will They dance on scene

With all who welcome Halloween!

by A.E., October 2009

Mirth and Musings Part 16

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I am encountering a rise in anticipation as the Eve approaches and I find that anticipation can quickly turn to anxious knots as preparations progress.  Still its not without merit as I liken it to the same apprehension I would feel venturing out into the darkness, drawn towards the smoky lights of flickering jack-o-lanterns, the more ambitious smoke and mirrors of yard haunts, even the rather mundane porch light.  In my day (yes, I am that old) we left the house in our made up costumes, lucky enough when Mom took a hand, and with just a group of friends with hands grasping well worn pillowcases, brown paper bags or the (dare to dream) printed plastic shopping bag, with its colorful Halloween images, take ourselves off into the unknown.  This New Yorker Magazine cover by Abe Birnbaum is a wonderful image of a group of friends heading out along well worn or maybe undiscovered paths on that annual candy rite of passage.  Certainly the prospect of free candy had its merits, but I think it was the absence of adult supervision that really appealed to me.  We could go anywhere – talk to anyone – take part in mazes and haunted garages and plans and plots for short-cuts to far off neighborhoods we only really saw from the school bus windows.  It was a no holds barred aberration of rules, instead of being home before the street lights came on we made our way through the darkness to those elusive flickering lights of yards and doorways, instead of making certain we were dressed appropriately for our destination we chose the rattiest or gaudiest draping we could find to deck ourselves out to fit our idea of “witch” or “ghoul” or “Batman” or “princess” and instead of being told we couldn’t have one more piece of candy, we could gorge as we went along, sure in the knowledge of one more street to plunder before the porches went dark.  Sigh.  So despite the hype of candy checking and actual horror of “trunk o treating” I extend my heartfelt appreciation to those of you still doing it the old fashioned way on both sides of the door.  To you Trick or Treaters and Haunters everywhere making the journey and the destination equally worthwhile.

Moonlit Revel

This one I will preface by saying you may have noticed in my header the lines from a poem that I change occasionally.  I post it here in its complete form, I hope you enjoy it.  The work was inspired by this stamp image that I once purchased after customizing with a line from my poem.  I am getting these again this year for my Halloween invites, you can purchase by the sheet, these are a great product offered by Zazzle.com go online and pick and choose and edit to your hearts desire.  Can’t wait to use these again. Enjoy!

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“Stroll with me beneath the Moon,

for surely They’ll be coming soon

to share with us the deepening gloom,

that must be Halloween.

Fellow Revelers walk this Night,

as They awake from yearly plight

deprived til now of sweet delight,

that must be Halloween.

Mischievousness the only goal,

for these few hours on parole.

And none but They could be so droll

that must be Halloween.

Sorry am I that They must wait,

upon the Eve to cross the gait.

Alas that is Their yearly Fate,

that must be Halloween.

All too soon the Night will fade,

and All shall pass into the Shade

to wait upon the next parade,

that must be Halloween.

Perhaps you’ll stroll with me once more,

when Gate stands wide and Spirits tour.

No other sight stir’s my hearts core,

that must be Halloween.”

-AE

Autumn Eyes

70JFwxBlood moon at zenith

From earth fog will rise

Prospects awaiting

Seen through autumn eyes

 

Cunning and patient

While folly foils fear

Silently stalwart

As hot breath draws near

 

Wind winds the cornstalks

A deep throaty hiss

Blackbirds go silent

A sign alls amiss

 

Ripe rabble en route

Yet focused on farce

Caught within whirlwind

Too beguiled to parse

 

Soon passing threshold

Point of no return

Eyes glowing hotter

Revealing the yearn

 

Rustling unbidden

And shifts unexplained

Imminent movement

From malice unchained

 

Traversing corn maze

Dupes still unaware

As soon all succumb

To Halloweens scare

– by A.E. October, 2016

Pumpkins on Porches

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Pumpkins on porches devoid of the scorches awaiting their annual plight.

Soon knife will descend for a gut wrenching end but reborn with flame burning bright

Orbs patiently wait this glorified fate as sentries of Falls candy rite.

The obvious choice, gives the Eve a mute voice calling out “stop here for a bite!”

Flashing their glances whilst youngsters take chances braving their mischievous sight.

In groups or by one, they’ll come and they’ll come, to challenge this well-meaning fright.

As porches grow dark they remain the last spark, a reminder of mischiefs big night.

Soon burned flesh will rot and all’ll be forgot diminished by Novembers’ light.

AE, October 2016

Fear Not The Dark

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Strange that the Night, whose delight is fright

is nothing without a little light.

They work in concert you see, tricking your sensibility.

Tis light that creeps and weeps in crevices and corners deep.

Halos the wicked. Disturbs your sleep.

First one and then the other, lucid thought and courage smothered.

The dark appears, it sneers and jeers, taunting you with fervid fears.

Till eagerly you flick a switch, to confidently banish pitch.

Contrary light, glows bright its might betrays as it restores your sight.

You see it coming. You try to hide.

And conscious of irony, close your eyes.

AE, October 2016

Mirth and Musings Part 14 – Love Boney Bunch Love

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“The Incredible Mr. Bones and the Boney Bunch”

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August.  While I realize that the Autumnal Equinox isn’t until September 22nd, making that first day of Fall weeks off, I do appreciate feeling like August is the pre-season.  I am starting to see it creeping into shops, into stalls, into consciousness.  The retail scope of the holiday merely allows us to view it that much sooner – but there is a collective audience standing in the shadows waiting for the curtain to draw up entirely on our beloved time of the year.   I applaud those few of you out there standing with us but are stand-outs too – Pumpkinrot of course, and if you are reading this, in this most obscure and little known of blogs, you’ll know who I mean.  But there is another, Boney Bunch Love, a Facebook entity who has established an amazing site for this “niche within the niche” of skeletal spectacle from Yankee Candle which I fear may be on the decline.  I have been following the page for years now, lurking as I do, have posted a poem in my original post from September 2013, and I am constantly surprised and delighted by the originality, the dedication, the friendliness of the page and it has been and I hope will continue to be a touchstone for staying connected to at least one aspect of our Season annually.  If you haven’t heard of the Boney Bunch, which launched in 2008, visit the page and spend a little time with it and you will gain an understanding past my ability to impart here.  The 2016 line is due in stores on August 27, and is always much anticipated by its ardent fan base.  It’s never too late to join the party, as Boneys past, present and future are always of much interest.  Hope to see you in line in front of your local YC store.  The door is opening, slowed by creaking hinges, but beyond lay delights and devilry, bonfires and beasties, mist and magic.  Forward!

Shall I tell you a tale of why I love so much
these black and orange figurines called the Boney Bunch?
They show up every August to herald Halloween
Their Boney faces grinning wide as they appear on scene.
Boney Sir presenting Boney Bride her spider ring
Charon Boney in his boat dead and ferrying
Gypsy Boney gazing deeply into her sparkling globe
Reaper Boney keeping time with his scythe and robe
Headless horseman Boney riding hard on english saddle
Baby Buggy Boney making ruckus with his rattle
Lady Boney prim beneath her spider parasol
A juggling Mr Bonehead with his top hat very tall
Eternal Slumber Boneys read as off to sleep they drift
Bobbing apples Boney using his peculiar gift
Organ player Boney playing organ tunes to fright
Submariner Boney floating by with his flashing lights
Witchy Boney on her broom, hat adorned with spider
and Monster Bride waves “hello”, with her Frank beside her
So why do I love Boneys? The answer seems so clear
I love that they remind me of Halloween throughout the year!

– A.E.

Nothing grim about this…

Rogers Gardens has announced their annual Halloween Boutique Opening “Grimm Tales” will debut on Friday, September 2nd @ 9:00am!  Visiting this amazing boutique yearly has become a favorite for me and I hope you find time to stop by, it will not disappoint.

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“…and the Storyteller paused…
and it was as if the wonders he retold had cast a spell upon him…”-A.E.

“The forest is dark and enchanted…branches creak and leaves rustle as trees close in, obscuring the path home.  Wander deep into the shadows and you’ll find frightful folklores, fantastical stories and chilling tales.  These bedtime stories will give you nightmares, and you’ll discover that not all fairy tales end happily-ever-after.” –Rogers Gardens

 

Perils and Perseverance

Once in a night as black as pitch, Isabel met a wicked old witch.  The witch’s face was cross and wrinkled.  The witch’s gums with teeth were sprinkled.  Ho, ho, Isabel! The old witch crowed, I’ll turn you into an ugly toad! Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry, Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.  She showed no rage and she showed no rancor, but she turned the witch into milk and drank her.  Isabel met a hideous giant, Isabel continued self reliant.  The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid. He had one eye in the middle of his forehead.  Good morning, Isabel, the giant said, I’ll grind your bones to make my bread.  Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry, Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.  She nibbled the zwieback that she always fed off, and when it was gone, she cut the giant’s head off.

Excerpt from The Adventures of Isabel, Ogden Nash, 1931

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