Halloween Poem:Spirits of the Dead ~ Edgar Allan Poe

spirits

Spirits of the Dead

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness — for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee forever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

Edgar Allan Poe

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Wednesday Poem: The Night Weaver ~ Amelia Dashwood

night

The Night Weaver

She blossoms in the darkness
Her magic stirs at night
Whispering potent wishes
Embracing moonbeams tight

She thrives in flawless silence
In solitude and grace
And plots her tender magic
Within a sacred space

The night owl claims her quiet
And ponders mysteries
Whilst weaving spells and stories
And setting daydreams free

She sparkles in the blackness
Like glowing candle flames
She muddles through her sunlit days
Till twilight sings again

The moon and stars are chaperones
Her oracles of time
She breathes in waves of wisdom
And sings sweet lullabies

Beneath the speckled starlight
The darkness is her realm
A universe expanding
Till sunrise breaks the spell

Amelia Dashwood