Poems By Bruce Hamilton

HALLOWEEN

We should get scared. The trees
should achieve a boredom like
yesterday. A climactic moment
will decree whether a person's
knocking will signify something.
The tension may mount. Abrupt
breakage has been threatening.
One chandelier deserves.


HALLOWEEN

My senses admire the evenings
when spooky creatures come out
and when the clammy air
seems to grab us or get us
and when the children do whatever
they wish, but do it wishfully,
and when I take out another book
and turn it as far as page thirteen
and slowly light that big stogy
called "Remembering Rum."



HALLOWEEN

Many tricks are turning the evening's
nuances. Many pumpkins are both rotten
and ripe. Many children are filling
blackboards. Many lines
are shouts that insist that
many witches are multiple users
of a manifold broom. May "many"
be a banished form! May "hex"
be a term that fascinates each sex!


HALLOWEEN

The main thing may be
pumpkin pie. A good
example to us all has
inserted a great knife.
The crust falls
flakily in pieces as
big as all witchcraft.
Children always
enjoy contemplating
the last crumbs in a tin.



HALLOWEEN

As haunted as the truth,
the children have arrived.
We'll give each one a gift
of frankly packaged candy.
The ghosts in every closet
will visit at near midnight.
Till seven or eight or so,
the children will arrive.

~ Bruce Hamilton ~
Copyright © 2002
All Rights Reserved


The floater code & scroll bar script from
Dynamic Drive
!

100x100 fall

 



Boomers International Institute™
Web Page By
Jeri Maier