[Roger Slater]

COURAGE

One Halloween I saw a ghost
and though I do not like to boast
I felt no fear and did not flinch
nor did I back away an inch
but gazed at him till I could see
the poor ghost was afraid of me.

[Kate Benedict]

Dick Morgan's painting The Laughter and the Silence just about perfectly complements Robert Francis's "Hide and Seek" poem, above.

http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtm...ML/000587.html

[Jim Hayes]

PLAYTIME


Asphodel, mild and meek,
excelled at playing hide-and-seek.
She’d crouch for hours beneath the bed,
or hide for days in the garden shed.
Once, in a cellar underground,
she spent a month and wasn’t found.

Her parents now think something’s wrong;
she’s gone a year – that’s rather long.
Asphodel can hear them chiding;
“It's high time that you gave up hiding!”
But she, in darkness, sticks to her plot;
and soon will seek them, ready or not!

[Roger Slater]

A Ballad of Hell
by John Davidson

'A letter from my love to-day!
Oh, unexpected, dear appeal!'
She struck a happy tear away,
And broke the crimson seal.

'My love, there is no help on earth,
No help in heaven; the dead-man's bell
Must toll our wedding; our first hearth
Must be the well-paved floor of hell.'

The colour died from out her face,
Her eyes like ghostly candles shone;
She cast dread looks about the place,
Then clenched her teeth and read right on.

'I may not pass the prison door;
Here must I rot from day to day,
Unless I wed whom I abhor,
My cousin, Blanche of Valencay.

'At midnight with my dagger keen,
I'll take my life; it must be so.
Meet me in hell to-night, my queen,
For weal and woe.'

She laughed although her face was wan,
She girded on her golden belt,
She took her jewelled ivory fan,
And at her glowing missal knelt.

Then rose, 'And am I mad?' she said:
She broke her fan, her belt untied;
With leather girt herself instead,
And stuck a dagger at her side.

She waited, shuddering in her room,
Till sleep had fallen on all the house.
She never flinched; she faced her doom:
They two must sin to keep their vows.

Then out into the night she went,
And, stooping, crept by hedge and tree;
Her rose-bush flung a snare of scent,
And caught a happy memory.

She fell, and lay a minute's space;
She tore the sward in her distress;
The dewy grass refreshed her face;
She rose and ran with lifted dress.

She started like a morn-caught ghost
Once when the moon came out and stood
To watch; the naked road she crossed,
And dived into the murmuring wood.

The branches snatched her streaming cloak;
A live thing shrieked; she made no stay!
She hurried to the trysting-oak—
Right well she knew the way.

Without a pause she bared her breast,
And drove her dagger home and fell,
And lay like one that takes her rest,
And died and wakened up in hell.

She bathed her spirit in the flame,
And near the centre took her post;
From all sides to her ears there came
The dreary anguish of the lost.

The devil started at her side,
Comely, and tall, and black as jet.
'I am young Malespina's bride;
Has he come hither yet?'

'My poppet, welcome to your bed.'
'Is Malespina here?'
'Not he! To-morrow he must wed
His cousin Blanche, my dear!'

'You lie, he died with me to-night.'
'Not he! it was a plot' ... 'You lie.'
'My dear, I never lie outright.'
'We died at midnight, he and I.'

The devil went. Without a groan
She, gathered up in one fierce prayer,
Took root in hell's midst all alone,
And waited for him there.

She dared to make herself at home
Amidst the wail, the uneasy stir.
The blood-stained flame that filled the dome,
Scentless and silent, shrouded her.

How long she stayed I cannot tell;
But when she felt his perfidy,
She marched across the floor of hell;
And all the damned stood up to see.

The devil stopped her at the brink:
She shook him off; she cried, 'Away!'
'My dear, you have gone mad, I think.'
'I was betrayed: I will not stay.'

Across the weltering deep she ran;
A stranger thing was never seen:
The damned stood silent to a man;
They saw the great gulf set between.

To her it seemed a meadow fair;
And flowers sprang up about her feet
She entered heaven; she climbed the stair
And knelt down at the mercy-seat.

Seraphs and saints with one great voice
Welcomed that soul that knew not fear.
Amazed to find it could rejoice,
Hell raised a hoarse, half-human cheer.

[Chris Childers]

Halloween

The children’s room glows radiantly by
The light of pumpkins on the windowsill
That fiercely grin on sleeping boy and girl.
She stirs and mutters in her sleep, Goodbye,

Who scared herself a little in a sheet
And walked the streets with devils and dinosaurs
And bleeping green men flown from distant stars.
We sit up late, and smoke, and talk about

Our awkward, loving Frankenstein in bed
Who told his sister that it isn’t true,
That real men in real boxes never do
Haunt houses. But the King of the Dead

Has taken off his mask tonight, and twirled
His cape and vanished, and we are his
Who know beyond all doubt how real he is:
Out of his bag of sweets he plucks the world.

--Gjertrud Schnackenberg

[Mary Meriam]

Roger-Bob - Thanks for posting A Ballad of Hell. I like that one.
Mary

[Quincy Lehr]

Mr. R. S.--

I think Mary, with a little tweaking, has bestowed unto you a new nickname... all hail "Roger-Bobby"!

Dr. Whup-Ass (a/k/a Quincy Lehr)

[FOsen]

Tell


I dreamt I met our buddy Ted,
Who asked what news I had to tell
And grinned to hear I’m on the mend
And better, since I married you.
He roared when I pronounced him fit
And said I hadn’t changed a bit —
To quirky visions, ever true!
But then informed me, as my friend,
That he had died, you never wed,
And I am very far from well.

-- Frank

[Jennifer Reeser]

Chris, thanks so much for posting that one by Schnackenberg -- I'd never seen it before. I love this celebration. Perhaps it's my pagan Celtic blood, but my birthday is the day before, and always, always growing up, the cake was black and orange, with bats or cats, or the like. I don't know if Millay wrote this with anything of Halloween in mind, but if she didn't, she could have:

How healthily their feet upon the floor
Strike down! These are no spirits, but a band
Of children, surely, leaping hand in hand
Into the air in groups of three and four,
Wearing their silken rags as if they wore
Leaves only and light grasses, or a strand
Of black elusive seaweed oozing sand,
And running hard as if along a shore.
I know how lost forever, and at length
How still these lovely tossing limbs shall lie,
And the bright laughter and the panting breath;
And yet, before such beauty and such strength,
Once more, as always when the dance is high,
I am rebuked that I believe in death.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Costumes... I haven't decided yet. The kids and I will be making rounds of area churches and civic groups who don't get too awful with their celebrations. It's either my long black wig and the Oriental empress disguise, or my long blonde one, black boots and vest, and pink "Pirate Barbie" disguise!

Jennifer

[Janet Kenny]

The Original version of a poem posted up the thread by Gail White.


BANNED POSTA Lyke-Wake Dirge
BANNED POSTBANNED POST
THIS ae nighte, this ae nighte,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
BANNED POST
BANNED POST.....BANNED POSTAnd Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
When thou from hence away art past,
BANNED POSTBANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
To Whinny-muir thou com'st at last;
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
Sit thee down and put them on;
BANNED POST
BANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;
BANNED POST
BANNED POST.....BANNED POSTAnd Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
From Whinny-muir when thou may'st pass,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
To Brig o' Dread thou com'st at last;
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
From Brig o' Dread when thou may'st pass,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
If ever thou gavest meat or drink,
BANNED POSTBANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
The fire sall never make thee shrink;
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,

The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
BANNED POST
BANNED POST.....And Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST
This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
BANNED POST
BANNED POSTBANNED POST.....—Every nighte and alle,
BANNED POST
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,

BANNED POST.....BANNED POSTAnd Christe receive thy saule.
BANNED POST
BANNED POST