Haunting Promise

There, among the ginger, Autumn leaves
Where in cinder hues dance eerie eves
With crisp edges shadow gliding rush
Blown to your door and scattering crush
Know ... I am but a whisper away

There, amid the late, October rain
Where chill billows mist to window stain
With some formation memory holds
Inscribed reach through your slit curtain folds
Know ... I am but a whisper away

You are not mad, who dream when awake
The witching hour makes no mistake
There, as the tall clock chimes thirteenth bell
You will find the haunt that promised dwell

There, within the hazing before dawn
Where to morning envies ghostly swan
With cast drifting between gleam and gloom
You will not be alone in your room
Know ... I am but a whisper away

(c) Kay Irvin

Black Candle Night

Black candle night, reflecting fire
Beckoning lives the looking glass
The willing pose, souls transpire
Curious stares chant for your cast

The witching hour melts the wicks
Imagining your direction
Your riddled presence softly pricks
A blood rose, darkly connection

More ... your green, rocking eyes
More ... your crimson hair flies
Rise this black candle night

Peculiar lair
Emerald windows
Someone taps
Someone calls
A Westerly wind carries a song
Dedicated to you
Whispering Mary

Challenging all that is shady
With pale flesh and tresses alight
What is the way of it, lady ...
On this spellbound black candle night?

(c) Kay Irvin

The Witching Hour

A wisp floats to the hallways of sticks in fragrant burn
Sublime elixir swirls every chalice turn
The velvet room glows, the chamber flickers rhapsody
Crystal patterns dip fire and circle restlessly

Silvern shapes line in rows with herbal, ageless define
Avadon kneads a cat's claw and stretches blackest shine
Time of twisting labyrinths unravel for to see
The witching hour fixate on all that truly be

Before the morning cradle the nightfall will allow
Some glimpse of random thoughts, some creation coming out
And journals will be penned with hands amazed to roam
When voices of mood echo through the catacomb

(c) Kay Irvin