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Samhain Night

A crooked oak on Samhain night,
Reflects the pale moon’s glow,
Releases brittle leaves to flight
Of pirouettes and flow.

A transitory bridge is formed
Between the realms of life.
The veil of Summerland is torn,
First pierced by autumn’s knife.

In rustling brush come hidden folk.
Unseen are passing souls.
On gentle winds our loved ones float
And meet us on the knolls.

We reunite with missing kin.
Though it be brief, it’s fair.
For we shall meet and love, again.
Our lives, once more, to share.

Copyright ©2005 Vivian G. Harriman

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Anonymous said…
Awesome!!
11:16 AM
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