©A Tale for Halloween
Mimi
Wolske
October 2010
Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™
All Rights Reserved
I
Who Is This Child?
Wind
moans; eagles scream
Trees
bark and crawlies dream
The
moon laughs as other worldleys prowl
Coyotes
listen as wolves howl
Human
souls, deer, and rabbits all run
The
sun hides from midnight's shun
Gaps
close and nightmares grow
Shadows
flock to watch the show
And
then, from the night--a silhouette's empty eyes--a golden-haired child! Noise
stops and frolickers mild
Mystery
settles, a fog in the air
The
surplus of joy is now hardly there
The
air stills--stops every breeze
Animals,
wind, and shadows all freeze
Who
is this girl, this delicate child with eyes devoid, so hauntingly wild?
And
why is she here, roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of fright?
this girl, this child,
Should
be home and in bed
Innocent
tears should stain her eyes red
She
should flee from the trees and glowing eyes
She
should dart and dash from the critters' loud cries
But
she stands like an omen, silent and tall
And
the trees hardly move--not a leaf dares to fall
All
is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant
eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then
a soft little noise sifts through the air
It
chills the mood by just being there
And
a child's innocent giggle turns to a laugh—
It
grows to a scream and that's only half!
The
sun hits the dark, an explosion of light
And
a delicate child runs out of sight,
A
grayish-faced child with eyes of the night;
She
darts and she dashes, devoid of all fright.
II
The Child Grows
Sea
sobs, ululates
Rocks
groan as a fish stagnates
Ebon
clouds gather to prepare for night
While
bird and beast cowl with affright
Mortal
hearts pounding with fainting spirits
Far
away from Death’s caskets
Gaps
open terrifying
The
penumbra converging
Suddenly
she’s seen--the silhouette with eyes of void—
Golden-haired
child no longer, a pale covering—sarcoid
Hair
like a mystery down her spine
She
gazes pass nonexistent moon shine
The
air swirls—creates a breeze
Animals,
wind, and shadows all freeze
Who
is this young woman, this fragile girl who grows with the night, who’s no
longer a child?
And
what’s that with her, sitting the night without even a flitter or shiver of
fright? Is this some wiled,
Some
trick or perhaps ruse?
Culpable
partner? And what will effuse?
She
remains, staring at the cold sea
She
should depart, appear to be more chastely
But
she sits and what is it she will presage?
Who
will understand her or her devil’s language?
All
is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant
eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then
a soft little noise sifts through the air
It
chills the mood by just being there
A
woman's amiable laugh that turns to weeping—
It
grows to a cry; what’s she reaping!?
The
moon strikes the clouds, an expression of light
And
the fragile young girl vanishes from sight,
A
grayish-faced woman with eyes of night;
She
is coming for you at half past twilight.
III
Don’t Look
Drooly,
gooly sounds
The
antithesis confounds
Pounding
shapes louder than eternal dark
Under
the dead moon disembark
Sinister
beings and dripping ghouls
Blanketed
with jewels
From
a different chamber
Seeking
those who dare wander
Is
it a wonder, is it a surprise
That
against the malformed ebony is where she lies
This
child, girl, woman with devoid eyes
Skin
so pale and hair so dark—beware,
Beware—don’t
look lest your vision she impair
Ominous
trouble, threatening evil, presaging menace, from a distance her beauty belies
The
mesmerizing, hypnotizing attraction that holds one’s interest on her fateful
disguise
When
cast under her spell
You
forget to look under your bed…hell
Is
the home to her and her inky kind
And
she’s waiting for you if you’re inclined
Around
the corner, behind the skinned tree
Sinister
beings and dripping ghouls wait patiently
All
is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant
eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then
a soft little noise sifts through the air
It
chills the mood by just being there
A
child’s giggle, a woman’s laugh—it’s you she seeks
Chills
spill down your spine; laugh transforms to shrieks
A
deeper black dots the sky, they fly to her side
They’re
coming for you…it’s half past evening tide
Run!
Run fast as you dare into the lightless
Depths
of disparaging gloom; there’s no success
IV
Xenobia Beasts through the Umbra Come
Xenobia
beasts
Through
the umbra come, and priests,
Untenable
souls, make the ravens cringe
Bloodless,
undead monsters impinge
On
the living—they’re not so choosey—
Doomed
to wander endlessly
Hideous
solanine lives
Darker
is she who deprives
Down
by the salley sanguinaria
The
pallor’s gone from the living dead with no pneuma
Behind
the veil of time she watches
And
any who dares to look at her blanches
With
terror and will be in need of a requiem
Close
your eyes tight, dare you not to gaze upon her, the aging child, girl, woman
who needs your lifeblood
No
longer a child, departed is the being sublime, the woman who follows is one who
is rotted
Touched
by her boney hand
Your
life will be hers just as she had planned
Crawl
under floorboards, hide in the attic
Run
little one, you must not be frantic
Obsessive
devotion in its black sight
Her
raven will find you before midnight
When
all is silent and still, not a flicker of life,
Vacant
eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then
a horrible noise cuts through the air
It
chills the mood by just being there
It’s
no longer a child’s game, she’s come for you
Hold
your breath, hide your face, she doth pursue
The
empty clock beats faster than your heartbeat
You
waited too long, no time left to retreat
She’s
taken your father and your dear, sweet mum
Hear
how she calls you? Hear her necro-hum?
V
Across the Edge of Unmarked Time
A
grave in the blackness
She’s
left feeling anxious
With
nothing only scaly bones under
The
earth, whispery voice a blur
Not
quite heard; indistinct from night
And
hiding from the daylight
The
sun begins to smile
Shadows
fade, they’ve lost their wile
And
then, feigning night—a silhouette's empty eyes—the woman becomes child!
Ghoulies’
voices once reviled
Are
quiet once again; fog flees the air
Still
the surplus of joy is hardly there
She’s
left behind sadness and death
She
inhales once more her last breath
This
woman, this girl, now a child returns to inner depths for another year
You
know why she was here roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of
fright, so do not jeer
The
penumbra departs
But
something still exists, perverse it thwarts
Passing
across the edge of unmarked time
When
foul monsters return once more to begrime
And
she’ll stand like an omen, silent and tall
And
trees will hardly move—leaves will not dare to fall
All
will be silent, still without a flicker of life
Vacant
eyes will slice the peace sharp as a knife
And
a soft little noise will sift through air
To
chill the mood by just being there
And
you, my innocent little one, have not escaped
The
things in the night have merely reshaped
The
grayish-faced child with eyes of the night
Who
darts and who dashes, devoid of all fright,
Has
not departed, she’s not through
Be
afraid! Next year she’s coming for YOU!
