Mirkwood Mists Mirkwood mists outside my door, From the ceiling of the world to the soft dank floor. Can't see much, but rays of light, Whispering gently everything is alright.

Christmas Lights In Old London Town Sparkling pavements and twinkling lights, Each step a journey into darkling night. Party people, dressed to kill, Eating, drinking, dancing with a will. Market stalls, tasty teas, spices, herbs, all aim to please. The globe stands silent, watching all, Shadows lengthening, growing tall. Tasty hot chestnuts to keep you warm, Whilst mingling with the growing swarm, Of people milling round and round, Listening and singing, happy Christmas sounds.p Bit late but still the Christmas lights still twinkle forth.

A Winters Night Twas a Winters night, freezing cold. The wind blew softly, bitter and bold. It found the warmth and sucked it dry, little by little till I thought I would die. Too cold to stand, too cold to sit, Lost my reason, lost my wit. Must loosen my limbs, find my way home. To warm glowing hearth and leather bound tome. Slowly, slowly, through glistening snow, Footprints deep 'neath bended bough. Not far now, can smell that fire. Homely comforts, the best in the Shire.

A Ghost For Halloween A swirling black mist covers the moors Seeping and weeping inside of the doors. Small cosy dwellings, so welcome and warm Discourage the ghosts that outside do swarm. Shadows of dark, oppressive Black shapes. A feeling of terror, trembling so awful it brings pain in it's wake. Right down the spine, that you thought of so bold. Till your blood feels like ice and your very soul cold. The door-handle turns just a little you see Then creaks and groans like a crone or banshee. As it swings fully open You can't help but stare Frozen in horror at what you see there. A large ghostly figure. All wispy and white. Swirling and whirling A part of the night. Suddenly silence! Not a sound to be Heard, no visions to see. Just blissful peace, And a spent and tired me. There are no more ghosts and the mists are long gone Full#moonshining brightly Like a beautiful sun So big and yellow and must weigh a ton. #poem #halloween

All Hallows eve Esmerelda the fair with her long flaxen hair, shimmering softly, causing many a stare. She gathered her herbs all covered in dew, Mugwort, Trefoil, red clover to stew. She stoked up the stove and got it real hot. Boiling up water in her black metal pot. Words of wisdom, following spell books of old. Some quite peaceful and some really quite bold. She sang as she worked in her little old house, With a black cat for company and a tiny white mouse. Lightning and thunder to add some real spice, Charge up her offering, so lovely, so nice. All Hallows Eve, when the dead shall walk, Keep people company, have tea and a talk. Honour the dead, remember them well, And welcome the Winter, for the stories it tells.