Month: October 2019

Halloween Wishes

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Photo by Michael Morse on Pexels.com

Will any super heroes, super villians

or princesses from the Sea

knock on my door hold out their bags

and cry out Trick or Treat?

 

My dog is dressed in a pirate hat

my cat is sporting gargoyle’s wings

and I am dressed up like a ghost

we’re ready for Halloween.

 

My Jack O Lantern is lit

my trees are hung with bones

my demons are in the attic

my zombies are lurking  downstairs.

 

We’re all eagerly  waiting

for someone to appear

to knock on our door

so that we will know-

Dinner is served.

 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Marilyn Harris, The Queen of Halloween

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I ran across this lovely story while I was surfing the net about what else- Halloween.

It concerns Boris Karloff and a little girl who should for all intents and purposes be considered the Queen of Halloween- read on.

amm

My Halloween Tree!

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Photo A.M. Moscoso

I’ve joined the club and put up a Halloween Tree!

I struggled with what kind of tree I wanted and of course the bigger plan at work was could I find one that I could keep up year round because I am sort of a spooky yet whimsical weirdo at heart.

Well guess what, I found one and oh happy day it turned out to have a lot of promise and it was even better then the picture on line promised.

I paired it up with a couple of fun skeletons and towards the back is a candle holder that is shaped like a human skull and has this rich earthy cinnamon smell  ( and I haven’t even lit it yet ) as opposed to the light scent you run across.

I’m not sure where the skelotons came from, or the candle because Luis gave them to me as gifts, but here’s where I got the tree.

Happy Almost Halloween!

amm

The Garden Over The Hill

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Ragtag Daily Prompt Thursday – A Flower Cried

Over the hill

from where I live

is a garden

where nothing grows, except regret.

In the garden

over the hill

from where I live

nothing grows

and

there are no more second chances

there are no more disappointing kisses ,

no more hellos,

no tortured goodbyes

no one here will ever  miss bus, or train or  lose money or catch a cold.

In the garden

over the hill from where I live

the stone angels look like they’re crying ,

but they have never shed a tear

the flowers, cut down in their prime, when they are at their brightest

 weep and fade when it’s their time to go

like all of us do

on the other side of the hill

from the garden

where nothing grows.

Photo A.M Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso