Halloween

The ghosts are quiet outside.
Not yet dare they gather
for fear we might be aware
of their schemes.
They cannot now frighten.

Inside we prepare.
We thank our Father,
His hallowed name.
With pumpkins we act out
childish nightmares.

Light is creeping to safety,
while laughter dies and
howling takes their place.
Nightfall is arrival of
guests and spectres.

With noise we seek to divert.
The children are more apt at this than we are.
Or else their trust robs them of their fears.
We practice together how to react to a fright.
So that they will know when there is need.

The spirits approach with darkness.
The candles show them that we yet live.
Light and for protection our noise.
Light and for protection our noise.
It is summer. It is winter. A new year.

Astrophel

Of all I have seen,
of aeons gone by,
and nothing of them,
I mourn

Of Arcadia and men,
weapons and this fate,
which first dragged
the willing,
I mourn

Of stars and spheres,
and all luminous gods,
that convey their
greatness on earth
to mourn

For fortune’s sparks
that from her wheel
emerge and you who
ascend thither and
mourn not

For silence is there
and obstructed the
way to Amoenum
yet circumwheeling
to unlearn to mourn