LPiA-25 Nov. 21

[Mostly Holy]

"Spooktober Traditions"

I rise like a revenant from its grave
to dress my lair for the spooky season.
Those hallowed nights when ghosts and spectres rave,
when costumed revels scarce need a reason.

Black tinsel garlands span the vaulted dark,
the air bewitched with incense, spice, and songs.
Skeletons dance as cardboard vampires lurk,
and carved gourds leer thru candle-lit wounds.

My guests arrive, a demon host unbound,
their costumes stitched from nightmares wrought of thread.
We toast the dusk, then revelries resound,
and we dance as though the sun itself lay dead.

I dream of Autumnal masques all year round;
Ghosts aren't real, but my parties are profound.

My grandmother invited that girl I married

Haha omg, did she ever forgive you?