Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Poetry Thursday 134 - All Hallows Eve and a birthing



My sources of inspiration have come from Dylan Thomas and Halloween this week.


Poem in April

I was born in warm spring sun
with sounds of willow on leather
and happy, smiling showers of love.

Intermittent, happy torrents that dry up
like love, and then return
pattering their exciting rhythms in your head.

Only to dry up again leaving an aridity
not assuaged by common water,
but that needs slaking to stave off death.

But birth was split between two sports,
work and a weekend.
It registered differently and has splashed along
happily ever since.
© David L Atkinson October 2014






All Hallow’s Eve

When the nights have darkened,
and the weather chilled, the Earth is not empty.
Souls in various forms are awakened
and walk to achieve their bounty.

Human games, talismans and treats
have no impact on their vitality.
They glide the night performing feats
that describe a lack of mortality.

So what actions protect us on this night
from the ethereal, not there, visitors?
Bolt the doors, lock down tight
and out wait till the day name alters.
© David L Atkinson October 2014


God Bless