Samhain Poems


All Hallow’s
Author Unknown

the voices of the dead.
are you with me, grandfather?
do you hear me, spirits of the past?
is the night hurrying because of you?

the answers are not in unhoped for words
but the images of night: the cloak,
the stillborn wind ripping brown leaves,
rain on the sidewalk, clay earth
becoming mud, mute stars,
the tree sighing as it dies, the ending
of the day, the halo of dawn,
the nighttouch, the wolves’ howl,
the heart, the soul of the dark.

because we know, we know you well.
the voices of the dead carry
my heart, whispering, wind-voiced.
what do they know but time?
timelessness is not theirs; they surpass it,
as they surpass the images of night.
my time is coming. I must leave,
as we all must, as the dead have,
wandering in their cities of different light,
strange and still, touching each other
as they pass, tenderly,
with the fingertips, as they pass,
walking home.

A Pagans "Halloween" Poem
Author Cather Steincamp

'Twas the evening of Samhain, and all through the place
Were pagans preparing the ritual space.
The candles were set in the corners with care,
In hopes that the Watchtowers soon would be there.

We all had our robes on (as is habitual)
And had just settled down and were starting our ritual
When out on the porch there arose such a chorus
That we went to the door, and waiting there for us
Were children in costumes of various kinds
With visions of chocolate bright in their minds.

In all of our workings, we'd almost forgot,
But we had purchased candy (we'd purchased a LOT),
And so, as they flocked from all over the street,
They all got some chocolate or something else sweet.
We didn't think twice of delaying our rite,
Kids just don't have this much fun every night.

For hours they came, with the time-honored schtick
Of giving a choice: a treat or a trick.
As is proper, the parents were there for the games,
Watching the children and calling their names.

"On Vader, On Leia, On Dexter and DeeDee,
On Xena, on Buffy, Casper and Tweety!
To the block of apartments on the neighboring road;
You'll get so much candy, you'll have to be TOWED!"

The volume of children eventually dropped,
And as it grew darker, it finally stopped.
But as we prepared to return to our rite,
One child more stepped out of the night.

She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen.
Her hair was deep red, and her robe, forest green
With a simple gold cord tying off at the waist.
She'd a staff in her hand and a smile on her face.
No make-up, nor mask, or accompanying kitsch,
So we asked who she was; she replied "I'm a witch.

And no, I don't fly through the sky on my broom;
I only use that thing for cleaning my room.
My magical powers aren't really that neat,
But I won't threaten tricks; I'll just ask for a treat."

We found it refreshing, so we gave incense cones,
A candle, a crystal, a few other stones,
And the rest of the candy (which might fill a van).
She turned to her father (a man dressed as Pan)
And laughed, "Yes, I know, Dad, it's past time for bed,"
And started to leave, but she first turned and said

"I'm sorry for further delaying your rite.
Blessed Samhain to all, and a magical night."



Go to page       >>  

 10.0 - 1 vote 

Website Design and Content ©2008-2011 WhiteTrinityWitch & SurrealHosting. Content and views expressed in this website and forums are not intended to be the official view of whitetrinitywitch.co.uk and are not necessarily to be taken as factual or otherwise. All postings are freely submitted by users of this service and whitetrinitywitch will not be held responsible for any posted comments. WhiteTrinityWitch and its Owners will not be liable for any occurance due to the way any information provided on this site is interpreted, or in fact, used. Any information/advice gained via this site is used at your own risk. No warranty (express or implied) as to quality/continuance of service is provided.