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The joy of October
Walking about the graveyard at night
No one accompanying me but my hazy shadow,
The moon shining a blood red blanket above, instead of its usual silver beam
The autumn wind blowing through and around the large weary trees making them come alive with their wails and graceful movement.
Light ghost like fog that to most would be eerie slowly covers the area as it gives off a soft blue-white mist.
So peaceful, the feeling of October, even to me walking in the graveyard brings a bizarre feeling of peace and inspiration.
The mood of things change for the better,
And for that I am grateful.
Looking down to the tombstones I notice,
All are tightly, few cracked and shaggy.
Names of loved ones re-carved in bold so they never to be forgotten or faded
Flowers placed all about, some new, some old,
However all resembling something, all with an individual meaning.
The grass which weaves its way through my shoes to my feet is cool and damp.
I look around and far,
I see shadows of mysterious creatures running by the path,
I couldn’t make what they were until I stopped and listened.
A cry echoed out, one of a wolf, quickly re-buddled by a who of an owl.
I sit down on a long abandoned bench, pull out my journal and pen.
Yes its perfect, the atmosphere, the feeling it gives and the scenery.
Oh the joy of October.
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