Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Every Halloween, I like to follow the tradition of pumpkin carving. It can only last a few days before being broken down further for food, or trashed. But it is art for art's sake, and a grand folk tradition.
Allan suggested the mouth should be shaped like a bat. I did the work myself, as he was having asthma issues. I also baked the pumpkin seeds with cajun salt, a treat I'll be enjoying for about a week.
and today's poem is appropriate for Halloween.
You came to me like shadows’ fall,
So silent in your midnight glide;
And in my dreams I hear your call,
Your voice from which I cannot hide,
Now whispering with loving words
Far fairer than a band of gold,
Or singing like the sweet night-birds
Of beauties never growing old.
But promises are often lies
And wise hearts are not lost to song;
There’s greater lure in your eyes
And resting in your arms, so strong.
You came to me, and touched my skin;
As soft as fog, your fingers brushed.
To keep our secret from my k