Wednesday, November 7, 2007

The Ever Seeking Poet

More of my efforts. One for fun,

Tricked Off
By Stick

The full moon is shining, clouds skimming ‘cross its face,
Werewolves are howling, seeking access to this place.
With wolves’ bane and garlic, we bar against the night,
For those creatures that are creeping, to give us all a fright.

The Doctor is in, Ms. Shelley would approve,
Igor says the monster is beginning now to move.
The villagers are prowling, torches burning bright,
They’re striving through the gloom, to see the horrid sight.

While out in the fog, the Count begins to seek,
Looking for a donor who is docile and meek.
Van Helsing is also looking through the dreadful gloom,
He’s cooked up a stake, which will bring Vlad to his doom.

Far off in the sands, although running low on purse,
Carter and his friends, unleash the boy King’s curse.
Now that he is roused, the Mummy stalks them all,
Stopping only once, winning at the costume ball.

Yes, everyone’s excited on this All Hallow’s Eve
Jack’s face is lit with joy, as the ghosts begin to leave.
We turn of the TV, those old movies can’t be beat,
While out in the night the kid’s scream "Trick or Treat!"
And one a little more serious
By Stick

We live our lives in Circles, we all run around
And try to complete them, while seldom is found
The answer we’re seeking, lost in the crowd,
So we just go on looking, if we’re not too proud.

One circle we find contains all of our friends.
We patch and we work to keep and to mend.
All those around us, we trust to support,
With them we are free to laugh and cavort.

Another circle that we all do obtain,
Is the circle of work by which we sustain
The life we have chosen, our day by day,
It brings us things from our earnings and pay.

Some circles are small, not amounting to much,
While some grow so large, we get out of touch
With those we include to help us along,
Who love us, or hates us, or just play along.

The smallest circle there is, is just one man alone
Who keeps to himself, which is hard to condone.
The largest circle by far is the one we’re all in,
The circle of man on this earth, with all of its din.

We draw all these circles, the large and the small,
Each perfect and round, no difference at all,
Except in the things that we keep inside,
The things we let out, and the things that we hide.

We turn and we turn in the circles we make,
And we will never our circles forsake.
We live life in Circles, and in them we find,
Truth and Love, and all of mankind.

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