Gothic 19: Upon A Stair

File:Marszałkiewicz Man in a ruff.jpg - Wikimedia Commons
Public Domain

 

In outlandish garb he comes my way

Latchet shoes and ruff upon his neck

Hollow eyes, and pointed beard

A ghostly visage he projects

Shall I pass him on the stair

Or wait for him to go?

How long has he tarried here?

Does even he, that answer know?


Padre

FOWC with Fandango — Outlandish

 

 

 

Gothic 18: All Hallows’ Eve

Ghost, Halloween, Horror, Bride, White, Death
Pixabay

All Holies’ Day is not yet here

A year has passed since the last one

And now the saintly power gives way to fear

As Teens play with evil just for fun

Late into the evening they shall walk

Lighted pumpkins before the doors

Laughing at powers of which they baulk

Little understanding their horrors

As on them night closes like a pall

Adorned in masks, they think disguise

Aware not of the presence mal

Among them those Teens unwise

So in their revelry they shall go

Still unaware of the risks

Surprised they shall be when they come to know

Strong cold fingers seizing their wrists


Padre

A little mood setting for Halloween in the form of a Trolaan (a poem consisting of 4 quatrains. Each quatrain begins with the same letter. The rhyme scheme is abab, and each successive stanza beginning with second letter of the previous stanza.

Trick or Treat

#CCC50

Kyle and Angie approached the gates just at sunset.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Kyle said.

“Why not?”  You have a cross, and some holy water we nicked from the church,” Angie said.

“But, going dressed like a monk makes me feel silly,” he said.

“You are a Friar actually,” she corrected.

“Okay, a Friar then.  But what are you supposed to be?”

“I am Alicia Masters and Silver Surfer all rolled into one.  So I have the silver skateboard, some real silverware from my mum’s china drawer, and a clove of garlic just in case.”

“Just in case?  See I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Listen Kyle, the kids that trick or treated here last year got the absolutely best stuff.  Well once they got past the vampire and the were wolf.”

“And how many ‘made it past?'”

“Three, but we are better prepared.”

(150 words)

Padre

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #50

The Perfect Look

Image result for fancy dress shop

fancy.pantscostumes

Tom dreaded that it was now October and time to find that perfect look.  Gone were the days when he was a kid and an old sheet made the “perfect” ghost, or an orange sweatshirt could be transformed into a Jack-o’-lantern by adding some stuffing and a few triangles of black felt.  No, ever since he had been with Connie, Halloween costumes had to be state of the art.

Last year they had used a spider theme.  But this was not simple.  Tom had to shell out for a complete commercially constructed “dark” Spider Man outfit complete with web throwers.  Connie was a black widow with red hourglass emblem, and electronic legs that all twitched.   They had been second place at the country club Halloween event.  Not bad since the Gardeners had won for six years running.

“Listen Tom, this year we are going to beat that annoying Sally and Will.  To do it, we are going to take out all the stops,” Connie said.

“Yeah, bit the rules put a five hundred limit on the amount spent on a costume,” he reminded her.

“I have been thinking about that.  So I have arranged for us to see an expert in Bahrain who will outfit us.  We will be going as robots, and all the tech will be Japanese, but bought in Bahrain.  So we will pay 500 Bahrain Dinar, and be inside the rules.”

“But for the two costumes that will be over two and half thousand dollars,” Tom said almost weeping over the figure.

“And don’t forget the flights, I have booked them for $2266.  I’m getting excited.  This will be our year to win,” Connie said triumphantly.

Tom dreaded that it was now October and time to find that perfect look.

Padre

Tale Weaver – #245 – 17th October – Shopping

FOWC with Fandango — Spider

 

The Rehearsal: A Haibun

The image is from Pixabay, by Michael Seibt

Alexa was a bit of a prima donna.  She was known throughout the marshlands for having the sweetest serpentine voice in all the land, praise which went to her head.  As was her practice, she met the Pixie, Sudaflax every Tuesday for rehearsal.  Things were not going quite right this week, however.   Every time they got to the crescendo of the Queen of the Night aria, Sudaflax hit the same bad note, flustering the soprano.  “This is your last chance,” she hissed,  “Mess it up again and we’re finished.”

Just One More Sour Note
A Noise He Could Not Abide
She Bit – Pixie Died

Padre

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 145 #PhotoPrompt