Halloween wraps fear in innocence,
      As though it were a slightly sour sweet.
      Let terror, then, be turned into a treat,
   Lest it undermine our common sense.
                   Our nightmares are the founts of fancy whence
                We wander through the fields of our conceit,
    Eluding the true horror we must meet
    Embodied in the play of our pretense,
              Now ranged across the night in our defense.

Copyright by
Nicholas Gordon

Watching Embers


Fingers of fire,
Dancing on coals,
The voice of the trees,
Sing of the old,
Boundaries of light,
Entangle the dark,
The feeling of peace,
Deep in my heart,
The rustling night,
Sparks imagination,
The magic and beauty,
Of all the creation,
I am happy and smiling,
Here in the real,
As the warmth reaches out,
To the place where I feel.


Timothy Chandler
©2000

Photo found at WebShots, taken by Don Paulson...Ghost Tree, Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington