Holy Days. Holidays. All

These Hallow Days.

All Hallows Day. Those.

Thus Hallows in ‘tween.

 

The Halloween.

Tonight. So

 

I ate That. Pumpkin Soup.

 

Most of IT.

Here’s a Taste of what. This left. Right

 

 

and Then. A Night.

 

That Night

Sam Hains Did Run

in aboves Mind. Mine. Herein so writ belows.

 

 

 

(Music Link)

 

The Run

of Sam Hains.

 

She had to go.

She had to run.

Now.

Quickly.

 

Night was coming. Rains too.

 

Tonight. Was THAT Night.

That Night was Here. Now. The

Night

 

closing in quick, deep upon Her.

Tonight. Was THEIR NIGHT.

The Night that Devils Dance. Openly.

Tonight. Here.

 

Grabbing, tucking, pinning Skirt in one.

Smooth motion,

She Ran. She,..

Sam… Samantha Hain did. Run.

 

Already near full speed when. Rains misted down.

A New Moon. Though Clouds had closed that. In,

shivering, inside and out. She ran on.

Recalling these horrid Tales of This Night.

How those caught out.

Were so mis-treated.

 

Things so shamefully done.

Only trickled whispers were so passed down.

‘Twas then, just as She thought of.

She felt. IT. Close.

 

Behind Her. Close.

Almost, not quite soundless. IT. Was so There.

 

 

Though the Night cooling.

She could already feel IT’s Heat as IT

so neared.

 

Strong. With Power.

Everybody Knew. Everybody Said.

 

IT was Their Night, Their Might.

Tonight.

She moved this Way. Then that there.

Stealing a so quick glance.

Over and around the Shoulder.

Eyes drawn, catching,

 

holding in Sight.

A single Eye. IT.

Balefully, beaming. Her Way.

Wind whistled in Her. Ears as She now

frantically raced.

Whipping, biting. Ankles, Shins

with Wind-spray, Sand, pebbled Shore.

 

Not too far ahead. Just a lil’ more.

She ran. On.

 

As She slowed, Turning, following the Path. IT

almost touched Her.

She accelerated again into those Few. Last Steps.

A Grab, then Turn.

A Slam and Click.

 

Leaning back against the Door allowing. Mind

and Body to Relax.

Letting what had run, run it’s course. Settled.

Grabbing a Towel from the Hook.

 

Patting, wiping at Her Clothes and Self. Till,..

 

 

BRIIING… BRRIIINGGG.

 

The Door Chimed. Did so Ring. Then.

 

Ready now. She was NOT going to be

so caught out. Not Tonight.

On Their Night.

 

She So Knew

What was to be next and done.

She Knew What She Had To Do. Now.

 

Reaching for, then taking hold. Of what She

had so prepped early.

The Wood went warm in Her Hand.

Just Right. For Such a Night.

That Night.

Their Night.

 

She had so just Run.

 

In One Hand, with the Other.

She so,

ever so, slowly.

Opened

The Door.

 

To so Hear a Howl eerily. Erupt,

a chilling soulful, yet. Now plaintive rhetorical cry.

Childish, Pleading. Persistent.

 

“… HALLOWEEN… TRICK OR TREAT…”

 

 

She so looked Up.

Straight at IT.

That Eye.

 

IT.

 

As many Hands made Light Work of the Sweet.

Contents

In The Wood-Bowl She so handed over and down.

One Shiny, moving Direct Lens. Up there.

Stared Back.

 

She wondered as She so watched.

The Night.

Out There still.

Baring All.

IT.

 

That Leading Light.

That did and so.

Light Hers and Others Ways.

 

Home

For the Twists. Turns of a Life are many.

A Life of a Light-House Keeper’s Daughter.

 

On such a Night.

 

 

Late from School.

The Run Home.

Twilight. Their Night.

 

ALL HALLOWS.

She Knew.

 

The Night of Halloween.

Took Many Steps.

Ups n Downs.

Ins + Outs.

‘inTweens. Many Steps.

 

She Smiled. Now.

She had run.

 

She was Home.

Time to Change.

 

 

Sam Hains…

the Nomen thereof:

 

SAMHAIN

is the Gaelic derived Term for that. This Olden Festival. A

Tradition of Celebrating

the Mid-Point oft. Of

the Autumn Equinox + Winter Solstice also. All so

usually

 

marked the End of the Harvesting Season. A

Change of Seasons, Lifestyle

and Times. A Times and Places

of Endings/Death. Celebrations thereof. The Celtic

Day begins and ends at Sunset. A

Peoples + Community

 

so following the Lunar Calendar System. There Their

Twilight Eve

Times Begins each Day. Seasonally

 

 

this onset of each. New Winter

akin to a New Year. The “… Fall…”

clean up. Done and dusted by,

on, before. During the Daytime

of the 31st.

 

Celebrations at the Sunset onset in deed. Spoken

of in Our World. Legends Told as a

GREAT SABBAT. Oft

considered Pagan though this. Term problematical. POV

Mind Mine.

 

Herein. Communal Ceremonies invariably utilise

Fire. Bon-Fires the norm. Sacred

Fire used to Cleanse and as Divine. Burnt Ups

 

Offerings. Other Change Ups Activities, such as;

 

 

 

(Music Link)

 

 

Circular-, Wheel-, Cycles-, Poles-…

-Dancings, Story-telling, Mimes, Songs sung, Prose

posed, Play Acts/Games,

 

Sacrifices, Offerings. Festivities.

Ancient Ancestors…

ALL THE DEAD… were Honored, Recalled in Our

World, Legends

and Tales… re-Told. Many

 

left Food, Sweets, Drinks on Graves, Places

of Memoriam or Power. Fancy

Clothes, Costumes, Parades, Dressing as

Angels or Devils.

Giving and Taking. Life Shared. Communally.

 

For those who included such. As the much Roman Goddess

in Their Celebrations;

(…or nomened equivalent…) mayhaps named perhaps-

 

POMPONA… Apples were Bobbed. For too. To

 

 

Yore’s Our World Legends.

Be One.

 

Work through those stilling Fears.

Live Your Dreams Well As. As

 

Angel, Devil.

Trickster, Treatster.

Or simply so in. Be ‘Tween.

 

Stay Safe.

Take Care.

Holy Days. Are Here,

‘Tis… so

Halloweens.

 

Simply Enjoy. Yours. Thus

 

 

Till Next.