Summer’s fruits turned to sweet sickly molasses.
Trees cast children to sink in sphagnum pillows.
Submerged stopped fields seem to be magic free.
Winter tightens its ice cold grip on the lost soul.
Darkness seeps into crevices abandoned by light.
The signatures of decay seep from forest floor.
The eternal dead scent that escape is in the air.
Ghosting their way to the ancient meeting points.
Fairy tree and fairy fort lie in waiting for recognition.
Seducing troubled souls to dance to their siren call.
Samhain calls to the living and dead at this time of year.
To party and parley in prayer to the summer’s returns.
Earth fire and water inviting youth to danger’s flame.
Dancing with prized witches hats and candy apples.
Whirling spinning round and round until up is down.
Taken to ground where essence of death enters unseen.
Souls of the living dead now lay burrowed in the livings heads.
Fair exchange now a piece of them lies in winter’s deathly ground.
To warm those lost souls trapped without the heat of life to relieve.
Thoughts of winter’s cold in a dark world where love has failed…
Shaadi – 31/10/2013