Limericks for Halloween

Here we have five independent limericks on a theme of Halloween. They don't have individual titles (does anyone title limericks?) so... Well that's it, really.

 Limericks for Halloween

When that knock makes you open the door,
You’ll see witches and ghosties galore.
With the end of October
You’ll doubt that you’re sober
As Hallowe’en’s come round once more.


It’s late and the graveyard is still.
Do the backs of your arms feel that chill?
Now the witching hour’s near
There’s that frisson of fear:
Makes you think of that phrase – Time to kill…


Bolt your doors as the werewolves run free.
Shade your windows so vampires can’t see.
Do not heed “Trick or Treat”
As they crave human meat
And, besides, it leaves more food for me…


The zombies are walking tonight.
Slack-jawed, they are out for a bite.
In dozens they number,
In dozens they lumber,
Fast food is beyond them. All right?


A vampire with teeth made of wood
Wondered how it was, his dentist could
Choose to make them from balsa
Which made them look falser –
Continually* stained from the blood.

(* N.B. read Continually as four syllables – i.e. con-tin-yull-y)

Light: When You Beam

This is the third in the trilogy of poems I wrote on the theme of "Light".

For this one, I had a go at a love poem. Again I went for double meanings and a degree of "artiness", but unlike the "Holding a Torch" poem, I decided on a simpler rhyme scheme - couplets. It works better for me. And yes, I know it's a bit soppy. Why not? I may be writing about something horrific next time. After all, Halloween is approaching - bra ha ha ha...

When You Beam

When you beam at me your smile illuminates my heart
so doubts that lurked in shadows there, they hurry to depart.
The swirling of uncertainties evaporates away;
No need to brood: the darkest mood refuses now to stay.
The worries scurry from the light, afraid to be exposed:
The option for them to return is well and truly closed.

When you smile at me the beam refracts, so sep’rate hues
affect me in so many ways: the goosebumps from the blues,
the secrets of the indigo, the passion of the red,
the violet bringing promises that will remain unsaid.
The yellow brings unbridled joy, and yet I feel serene:
the burnished warmth of orange and the calmness of the green.

When you beam at me I find that I reflect your smile.
The radiance* that envelops me, the way that you beguile, 
the way you brighten up my life: I feel that I could shine,
that nothing is impossible – should your heart feel like mine.
Despite all this, I have no proof confirming I am right,
for when you beam at me my eyes are blinded by delight.

* Read this word as two syllables.

Light: Candle Light

This poem is the second of the three poems that I wrote to the theme of "Light". 

I thought of a single flame, shivering arrythmically from an intermittent draught, and had the idea that, at a stretch, it could be compared to someone who was not very good at dancing. Having given the candle sentience, I wondered about the perceptions of that candle. How the shadows would follow this movement and how the object casting the shadow would always be obstructing the view of the flame.


Candle Light

I dance to silent music, irregular in beat.

Already set off-balance by the burning of my heart,

encouraged by the wafts of air who wish to play their part,

I feel the silent rhythm, irregular in beat.

I dodge to see the darkest places but they dart away,

to hide like they can read my mind and echo how I’ll move.

They treat me like an evil twin of whom they disapprove.

I long to see the darkest places but they dart away.

I hope to brighten up the world as far as I can reach.

Short-sighted as I am, I see how golden life can be.

Whilst not as clear a vision as that of an L.E.D.

it’s in my nature to bring warmth as far as I can reach.

I live to bring a sense of space to those who wish to see.

To take them from the blinding dark to share what I can give,

illuminating minds so that they find somewhere to live,

where they may find that sense of space; those ones who wish to see.

I only have the smallest time before my life expires 

but I’ll remain light-hearted and as bright as time permits.

Although the wax is waning I will never call it quits;

I’ll cherish my remaining time before my life expires.

 

Light: Holding a Torch

This poem is the first of three poems I wrote on a theme of "Light".

For this one I thought I'd go the "double-meaning" route and go a bit "arty" with a more established poetical form. Not totally satisfactory from my point of view, as the rhymes, although there, don't stand out sufficiently. Still, it may appeal to someone.

Holding a Torch

  A glimmer, though I could be wrong, I guess;
My mind is playing tricks on me these days
You’ll never be revealed to me unless
I charge my batteries; but I confess
It may be far too late to change my ways.
The slightest shake might help me reappraise,
but surely not enough to bring success?
  And yet, my hope is kindled once again
as there, the smallest flaxen glow begins,
increasing, flickering; giving respite,
allowing shapes to gather form and then,
I find my bearings as the darkness thins
revealing the path; my heart is alight.