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Friday, October 23, 2020

HALLOWEEN....Day Twenty-Three


Short reading today. 

As I looked for clip art to use for my daily reminder of what day it is of Halloween Month, I came across a few of graveyards at night.  Today’s word was GRAVEYARD/CEMETERY.  As I began to compose I pictured an old cemetery I once saw years ago.  It was at the church where I was married.  The church is out in the country area, with an old cemetery next to it.  In my mind I pictured how at the witching hour a graveyard comes alive when I began typing.  I enjoyed composing this as it has a spooky feeling to it (or so I think).  
With only eight days till Halloween it’s getting to the point I have not go an idea how to dress.  Perhaps just go as myself as I generally do dress funky.  
It’s Friday and today we wear our red shirts to support our troops to remember everyone deployed.  
I have not celebrated any of the wacky holidays this week.  I don’t recall any that interested me but today is National Boston Cream Pie Day, I may not find pie anyplace but perhaps I can find a Boston Cream donut as substitute.  
Until tomorrow happy Friday and as always Stay Safe.  I’ll be playing some of those Halloween songs later.  

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
             ALIVE EACH NIGHT
             © Scottie-ann Murphy 

The midnight hour has come
And tonight a full moon shines down 
   casting eerie shadows on the ground 
      lighting the cemetery as it comes alive 
From the leafless oak tree an owl hoots into 
    the night.....hoooo.....hoooo....hoooo
A black cat growls as it lurks between   
   broken headstones in the graveyard 
Swarm of bats wildly fly from the old church 
    belfry

Tis the witching hour when spirits rise from 
      below the grave 
For a few hours they come to life 
  dancing in the moonlit graveyard 
    roaming the earth 
A raven perched on the mausoleum 
   watches the nightly activities 
Statuesque it sits night after night 
  guarding the final resting place of those 
      who have passed on 
and return to earth when the clock strikes 
    twelve 
Once more they live until the rooster crows 
    at dawn
When the old boneyard falls to slumber 
    again 






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