• Sonnet for Halloween

    There comes around a certain time of year
    When night comes early and leaves are wind-blown.
    Then sights beyond all normal sense appear:
    Fey spirits romp, witches fly and ghouls moan.
    Why do such creatures fill us with chill fear?
    Why do we stand in dread of the unknown?
    Perhaps what threatens us is not dark arts,
    But that dark swelling within our own hearts.

    Which prospect truly is more bleak and drear:
    To stand in moonlit graveyards all alone,
    A haunted eerie uninviting place;
    Or, inward looking, see horrors more near,
    malice, evil and shadows all our own?
    We are the monsters we dread most to face.


    (c) beaulolais 2007