Harold Macdonald's Muse


All Hallows' Eve













Harold Macdonald

Under the porch light, witches three

chalk cheeks, but blacked

around the eyes

(supposed to look like death, but not exact)

hold out their bags; each cries

“Drop in your stuff

you owe us, see?”

We think: “Agree! Agree!”


Then two cool guys, age fifteen anyway,

in tux-like suits and angled hats

carrying pillow cases; “drop in your stuff you rats”

(they are about to draw their gats),

they seem to say, “you owe us see ”.

“ How great you look” say we

they break the spell and smile away.


Then more come -  we owe them all!


A friendly evening it has been; no snow, no frost,

these young wild things of night - a lark!

the walking dead enjoyed the dark

their little stroll from house to house

this hallowed eve.

The spooks they half believe

no frightened children lost,


Indeed, they are surrounded

by a cloud of witnesses; whose silent deeds

shape the dispositions, plant the seeds

and stealthy streams of strength flow in-

love poured and hungrily received

and learning’s enterprise for decades shared.

The little person grows, is cared

for; and surrounding hope prevents the likely fall

fussing over all.

On this a person’s life is founded.


What Spirit gives the giving? Makes

the taking?

Reveals to us the ghosts

Of goodness, from the time of our most

blessed start

conveyed from a much older heart?


This Spirit makes the moments twist and turn

we waken to a hidden love and learn.

It opens memory’s inner door

to show a room of loveliness

where the giver was a trusted guest

those many years before.