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Autumn Soirée
Halloween Poetry
Prepare to parley
at the soirée reception,
the partisans have arrived,
we may finally begin.
In the courtyard the trees
are whistling in the wind,
while the shadows they cast
look delightfully grim.
The leaves are all burning
and turning at the tip,
and Luna has changed
into her sultry red slip.
Her light is transformed
into music so sweet —
so sweet even the undead
hearts skip a beat.
The antechamber is cramming
and jamming to burst,
for the dead aren’t as patient
as you may think at first.
From the parlor, we hear
such raucous laughter to raise
the corpses and cadavers
from out of their graves.
The bones are all knocking
and jostling towards the host,
whose mistress looks divine
in her blood-soaked petticoat.
All manner of ghouls, specters,
phantoms and ghosts
are here to commemorate
the day we love the most.
So let us toast to the Eve
of All Hallows and Saints,
and to the moonlight sonata
sedating our brains.
©
2023
