A bruise of clouds blossomed in that halloween sky. They lurked as if they would be there forever, a never-fade echo of misery. I watched them billow. I watched them swirl in the coldest of currents. Yet it was a pumpkin spice wind that blew, a soft aroma of better days. And so, costume on, masked for the parade, I skipped on rain-washed concrete.
As they laughed at the idea of evil spirits, they were easy pickings to influence into foul deeds; happy halloween indeed.
Halloween drifted in as a question mark to a daydream, inviting my creative self to laugh ever louder at my fears.
To take on the monsters who transform what was once the potential for "monsterism" within you and transform it into "heroism." We ride each halloween... we slay monsters... and we get to say when halloween is... and guess what? We get to say how often it is too.
This halloween we make monster pie, and of course, they key ingredient is monster steak and ale.
Halloween arrives so that we may enter the realm of monsters and slay them where they stand.
Each halloween we showed that no matter how we loved to dress up as monsters, we were still angels in our childish souls.
This halloween the night sky is mother, the perfect black to hug newborn starlight, the scene set for a million pumpkin grins.
Upon hallowed ground we ride, we terminators of the monsters, we assassins of evil, dressed this night as the ghouls we seek.
The gooseberry jam was the most cheeky of greens, as if it knew folks thought of jam in the hues of flamed reds. We'd spread it on our toast at Halloween and add edible eyes for garnish. Every year it was the same script from Dad, "Here's looking at you kid!"
Halloween came to let our inner sense of joy play in monster masks and costumes.
Halloween arrives in as a knight upon black horse, as if the light was concentrated in the shadows this very eve.