There’s something magical about 3AM
It calls me awake almost nightly

Sometimes I’ll sit outside then
Just to listen to the wind dance

It’s peaceful there in the calm
I can feel that peace in my soul

I don’t discount that comfort
Because it’s few and far between

Five is the witching hour.
Filled with thick fog, or
Perhaps vivid hallucinations.
Desperate with the need to dream,
Or desperate to wake and stand in the light,
Just creeping up into the inky blue of the sky.

You're a funny a little thing
Your mama tells you so
When you're staring into darkness
At what she'd like to know

With no sound at all
You slink into the room
You sit there all wide-eyed
For it's the witching hour soon

Ears pricked and ready to fight
Your claws already drawn
You sit and wait expectedly
But all that comes is dawn

And when the sun appears
Your guard is up no more
You cuddle up to mama
Whose love you can't ignore

Rich crimson leaves cascade from trees
Embers of fire in the breeze
Luna sails the black sea unseen
Autumnal spell of Halloween

We carve a brood of sculpted gourds
Bake apple pie for all adored
While trick-or-treaters come and leave
Phantasmal dream of Hallows' Eve

Candles burn bright in our window
Ancestors led home by the glow
Our bonfires flames swell with sheen
As shadows dance on Halloween

Let the feast for the dead begin
This spirit night, the veil is thin
Humans and ghosts interweave
The magic realm of Hallows Eve

The clock strikes the Witching Hour
Loved ones graves we bloom in flowers
This spooky Eve of in betweens
The time of rebirth, Halloween

one, two, three, four...

oops.

already ran out of sheep.