All Hallows ‘ Grieve

Read this or you’re missing out.

Poet's Corner

Late at night, the silence cleaved, with sudden bluster, on All Hallows’ Eve.
Winds rose to stir the trees, rattled my nerves, shutters and doors.
As I settled, still somnolent, I realized the dark portent.
My eyes widened at whispered words, whispered as softly as the coo of birds.
“Your time has come,” a voice did say, words ominous, and they did weigh.
I prayed the voice would go away.

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