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 Tamara Beryl Latham - The Poet      22504 Poems Read

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Small Cat  Between the Parchment (Rondelet)
Small Cat  Bless the Table
Small Cat  Catherine and William
Small Cat  Checkmate
Small Cat  Creativity vs. Evolution
Small Cat  Crosswords of Death
Small Cat  Destiny
Small Cat  Different Worlds
Small Cat  Dueling Violins (Yanni's Song) - Sonnet
Small Cat  Flowers of Time
Small Cat  For Bullies
Small Cat  For Yahoshua - My Final Prayer
Small Cat  From This Day Forth
Small Cat  Frozen Mannequin (Sonnet)
Small Cat  Heart of Ice
Small Cat  It's all in the Cards
Small Cat  Katrina, Queen of Death
Small Cat  Lady Mari
Small Cat  Lost Dreams (Sonnet)
Small Cat  Lost Souls
Small Cat  Magdalena (Sonnet)
Small Cat  My Contribution to Politics
Small Cat  Nocturnal Lethargy
Small Cat  No Greater Love Than Mine
Small Cat  Of Random Splendor (Sonnet)
Small Cat  One Tear Removed
Small Cat  On Silent Lips
Small Cat  Requiem in Blue
Small Cat  Scared Brave
Small Cat  Scattered Song
Small Cat  Schizophrenia
Small Cat  School Daze (ABC Poem)

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The Darkest Halloween

Under cloak of a midnight sky,
on Halloween, the moon was full.
An eerie sight there caught my eye,
I viewed his body being pulled.
The dirt unearthed was moist and fresh,
once the grave where he'd been placed.
A man of forty, so I'd guessed,
I could, just barely, see his face.
When I moved in closer still,
five tombstones soon surrounded me
and chanting in the night air filled
the prophesies of mystery.
On this day so prophesied,
chanting of a thousand witches
would raise the dead from all the tombs,
all the morgues and crypts and ditches.
At the stroke of twelve, or so,
while stirring fast strange witches brew,
their voices filled the midnight hour
and chanted 'til the stroke of two.
Potions, cauldrons, signs of death,
raised my hair, as I held my breath.
"Ravens, Banshees, Owls and Trolls,
raise the bones of forty souls."
Witches moved to form an arc
and in the center placed the man,
then dripped the blood of forty larks
that severed both his lifeless hands.
When the chanting nearly ceased
his hands began to fly like bats
and to the air white doves released,
soon followed by black howling cats.
Beyond fear I was a wreck.
I told my feet to pick up steam,
but one hand grabbed me 'round the neck
on this the darkest Halloween.
So, next time as you walk alone,
in the dark, on a moonlit night,
remember the rest of his bones,
are out there to fill you with fright.
The witches "sign of the five,"
are points of a star bringing death.
At this moment you're still alive,
while I am still catching my breath.
Each Halloween, at midnight,
his body still roams, that's no joke.
His hands are still able to fly,
and next time they'll fly at your throat.

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