Ghostly Poetry An October Reverie Yellow, gold, red, orange—they fall upon a woodland floor. The flying fall air does whisper: ‘Summer is no more.’ Warm sunshine igniting autumnal crests and ridges— Wet leaves sticking on to century-old stone bridges. Then nightfall arrives and the colors quickly vanish Beneath monochrome moonlight like silver with tarnish. And past the glum gates of this dominion—dipped like a pen in ink, Phantoms of folklore and fiction teeter on reality’s brink. But sunrise staves off night’s unwelcomed sovereignty, Ushering in Autumn’s humble sublimity— With pumpkins for puddings and apples for pies, And scarecrows in corn-patches beneath blue skies. Yet sunset bleeds into darkening clouds that whelm The dwindling twilight forewarning of this realm. Then flapping fast through the frigid, smoke-scented air, A bat-winged beast searches for souls to ensnare. Again, the sun peeks from behind mountains of colors quite deep, Smiling down upon plentiful harvests farmers shall keep. Molasses cookies from the oven and fresh cider from the press, ‘There’s never been a more splendid day,’ many revelers confess. Though as radiant sunshine fades to dusk and all the nightbirds chant, The merrymakers whisper ‘Linger at this gathering, we shan’t.’ Minute by minute, the crowd thins like an unraveling thread— Until lastly, there reigns in deceitful darkness only dread. Ah, but attractive are the Helenium autumnale, Whose orange and yellow petals gloriously brighten the day. Smoke thus wafts from chimney-tops and over gambrel rooves, Whilst with each roast, a crispening marshmallow improves. Yet once more the moon ascends with many superstitions, As mists rise over ponds like indistinct apparitions. And in the candlelight of a hollowed pumpkin effigy, One shall wander far away—in an October reverie. Return to Ghostly Poetry Next Poem Previous Poem

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