The Halloween Conundrum
This is my first attempt at poetry. I have tried to capture the spirit of the festival along with my personal observations on life.
I
The day is sunny and ripe
For a babe or two
To a finger-licking ride,
Toffees and cakes
Bake or braise
For the meaty delights and the candle lights.
Leather boots and a cowboy hood
Glitter and glamour
A bloke and his stooge,
Horrors are fun
And terrors aren’t rude,
The highlight of it all
Is the violin and his muse.
II
An ascension of the trumpets
And the drums make the mood
The cello makes its entry
On a heightened war with the flute.
The keys and the harps
The roads and the myrrh
The jumping souls and hanging hopes
Dive into the pit
All hands away from real ropes.
Into the blindness
Into the hole
Larping away till the sun falls cold,
Joysticks in hand
No blight done
Except just the minds
Of a few young ones.
A monstrous frown
And a crashing plane
All fronts in
And all guards down.
III
As the shrouded sky grows red
The Flash and Batman play
The witches and the werewolves
Waltz away unaware,
The superheroes and meta-humans
Ride along the night
Trick-or-Treating and candy eating
Not one fathoms the dread a red sky could cry.
A simple shadow screams past
But not a soul takes note
Of the crimson sky and its intent
The horror lies behind the brightly lit lanterns,
But none takes care
None but the little angel of nightmare.
IV
Grasses grow greener
The sky smiles blue
Cobalt or Prussian
Not a sure thing or two,
All paths confused
All creeds and crew
Life’s but a sombre thing
All dreary and brood.
But a hearty laugh
And a stealthy sword
Can beat the hum drum
Of a gobble who is bored.
Gluttony and greed take a bow
Cause its Halloween time
And all is just wow!
Roger that and Roger this
The children play
On a muddy plain
All stones forgotten
All battles slain.
A high intent of goodness
One fine day
When the lanterns are gold
And the pumpkins grow old.
© 2019 Tiyasha Maitra
