Halloween Challenge

[AlwaysHungry]

I like this much better and I didn't see 'hurled' in quite the same way as Mer (probably because it doesn't really mean the same over here) but now it's pointed out i do!

There is no actual difference in meaning across the pond; "hurled" in the sense of vomited is strictly slang. I think it may have been made popular by the success of "Wayne's World"?

 

[Hard_Rom]

Samhain

The fairies and spirit dead swirled,
Between this realm and Otherworld.
Make offerings and go in guise,
When the veil 'tween realms thinner lies.

Mark this festival of the dead
With a great carved pumpkin head.
Make offerings to bless your home
For ghouls, goblins and witches roam.


Swirled works well. Changing world to realm got rid of enough too many similar rhymes for it to work. I was thinking in terms of sprits hurling themselves across the veil. But even that may be too strong of a term. After putting in realm I could have gone back to whirled. But swirled does have that smoke and vapour movement better than whirled with a much faster type of movement.

Thanks for input

 

[UnderYourSpell]

There is no actual difference in meaning across the pond; "hurled" in the sense of vomited is strictly slang. I think it may have been made popular by the success of "Wayne's World"?

Never once have I heard anyone allude to it as hurling ....... puked, threw up, spew but never hurl. What a delightful conversation this is!

 

[greenmountaineer]

Samhain

The fairies and spirit dead swirled,
Between this realm and Otherworld.
Make offerings and go in guise,
When the veil 'tween realms thinner lies.

Mark this festival of the dead
With a great carved pumpkin head.
Make offerings to bless your home
For ghouls, goblins and witches roam.


Swirled works well. Changing world to realm got rid of enough too many similar rhymes for it to work. I was thinking in terms of sprits hurling themselves across the veil. But even that may be too strong of a term. After putting in realm I could have gone back to whirled. But swirled does have that smoke and vapour movement better than whirled with a much faster type of movement.

Thanks for input

I like the title and the variation in the meter.

 

[Hard_Rom]

All Hallowed Eve

This night ghouls and goblins once were said to go,
While wicked witches flew about.
Consumed by commercialism and Christian forms
Today the tales of old are not told.
We feast, fete and wear fanciful clothes
Yet not laugh and leap 'tween bonfires lit.
To appease ancestral spirits or angry ghosts,
We take children out to trick or treat.
Costumed in cloaks and capes,
They're medieval mummers in modern form.

*first attempt had some decidedly none alliterations*

 

[greenmountaineer]

From the Forest of the Three Morrígna

I just learned, Sisters, the midwife Maven,
who loves all children, flees as I speak

after the Earl priced twenty drams
of brandy for proof of her charred remains.

Still, our men will meet with us secretly
to bring us hides for warmth in the caves

when the bishop decides to winter
in Rome with his servants and pope.

Let us make our stealthy men soup
with parsnips, thyme, carrots, and mushrooms,

and let us whisper moan in their ears
to make the summer nights re-appear.

November is fast approaching.
Why venerate dead saints may I ask?

Oh, for the day we no longer see
royalty and the bishopric

when, Sisters, we can go back to the village
to celebrate the passing of seasons,

fuss over children in painted faces,
seeking soul cakes door to door,

and in the divination of bobbing
tease all the maidens who place their apple

under a pillow for later good fortune
while young men tend to the bonfires

before which we raise our tankards of ale,
some with their cups of nettle tea,

to mock their everlasting fire
and affirm passing of death until spring.

Oh, what has happened, Sisters,
that we are branded whores of the Serpent?

And why do the ancestors no longer smile
when they come in dreams on All Hallows Eve?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

From the Forest of the Three Morrígna

I just learned, Sisters, the midwife Maven,
who loves all children, flees as I speak

after the Earl priced twenty drams
of brandy for proof of her charred remains.

Still, our men will meet with us secretly
to bring us hides for warmth in the caves

when the bishop decides to winter
in Rome with his servants and pope.

Let us make our stealthy men soup
with parsnips, thyme, carrots, and mushrooms,

and let us whisper moan in their ears
to make the summer nights re-appear.

November is fast approaching.
Why venerate dead saints may I ask?

Oh, for the day we no longer see
royalty and the bishopric

when, Sisters, we can go back to the village
to celebrate the passing of seasons,

fuss over children in painted faces,
seeking soul cakes door to door,

and in the divination of bobbing
tease all the maidens who place their apple

under a pillow for later good fortune
while young men tend to the bonfires

before which we raise our tankards of ale,
some with their cups of nettle tea,

to mock their everlasting fire
and affirm passing of death until spring.

Oh, what has happened, Sisters,
that we are branded whores of the Serpent?

And why do the ancestors no longer smile
when they come in dreams on All Hallows Eve?

Most definitely need a 'Like' button on here!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

In a little country churchyard
old tombstones all askew,
weathered guardian angels
watch all that's left of you.
Your world was one of ancient times
now withered neath the chalk,
this place of Yew and whispers
where only ghosts now walk.
A little country churchyard,
forgotten - nettle deep,
All Hallows Eve awaken
your soul from endless sleep.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I had 9 hours of sleep last night!




The Wanking Dead

Boners!
the horde of zombie belles mumbled
A gorgeous host of cock craving undead
Oh, Lord!
Not interested in gorging on our brains
clawing at our engorged peckers instead
Run for your lives!
far from these ghoulish girlfriends and wives
after us menfolk with their forks and sporks
brandishing unsharpened kitchen knives

I don't know whether to laugh or !

 

[AlwaysHungry]

In a little country churchyard
old tombstones all askew,
weathered guardian angels
watch all that's left of you.
Your world was one of ancient times
now withered neath the chalk,
this place of Yew and whispers
where only ghosts now walk.
A little country churchyard,
forgotten - nettle deep,
All Hallows Eve awaken
your soul from endless sleep.

This may be my favorite poem that you have written. It's simple, concise, elegant, and musical. I particularly like "nettle deep."

 

[UnderYourSpell]

This may be my favorite poem that you have written. It's simple, concise, elegant, and musical. I particularly like "nettle deep."

Thank you very much, very kind I based it on what a lot of English Churchyards are like, having been stung by those nettles in the past.

 

[Magnetron]

I spent Halloween waiting out a family member's 7 hour surgery, aside from the 4 hours of admission and recovery time and 3 hours of commute. It was a long day, but everything went good.

Wish I could have spent more time on this challenge.

 

[Piscator]

Good to know everything went well.

There will be another Halloween and n+1 challanges.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I spent Halloween waiting out a family member's 7 hour surgery, aside from the 4 hours of admission and recovery time and 3 hours of commute. It was a long day, but everything went good.

Wish I could have spent more time on this challenge.

Hugs Magnetron, I'll be thinking of you

 

[Magnetron]

Hugs Magnetron, I'll be thinking of you

Thanks!

Good to know everything went well.

There will be another Halloween and n+1 challanges.

I'm a dunce when it comes to anything beyond basic math.

 

[legerdemer]

I spent Halloween waiting out a family member's 7 hour surgery, aside from the 4 hours of admission and recovery time and 3 hours of commute. It was a long day, but everything went good.

Wish I could have spent more time on this challenge.

Glad to hear the ending was good - don't need that kind of scary on H'ween.

I wish i'd had more time and inspiration both...

 

[legerdemer]

In a little country churchyard
old tombstones all askew,
weathered guardian angels
watch all that's left of you.
Your world was one of ancient times
now withered neath the chalk,
this place of Yew and whispers
where only ghosts now walk.
A little country churchyard,
forgotten - nettle deep,
All Hallows Eve awaken
your soul from endless sleep.

This may be my favorite poem that you have written. It's simple, concise, elegant, and musical. I particularly like "nettle deep."

I agree wholly with AH.