The night is darkening round me

 

Spellbound      by Emily Bronte

The night is darkening round me

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me

And I cannot, cannot go.

 

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow.

And the storm is fast descending

And yet I cannot go.

 

Clouds beyond clouds above me

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me;

I will not, cannot go.

 

Some of the days in November carry the whole memory of summer as a fire opal carries the color of moonrise. These are the days I especially love, when the air lies soft and quiet over the dreaming earth; it is a reflective and thoughtful time.

~ Gladys Taber

 

"Let confusion be the design
and all my thoughts go,
swallowed by desire: recess
from promises in
the November of your arms.
Release from the rose: broken
reeds, strawpale,
through which, from easy
branches that mock the blood
a few leaves fall. There
the mind is cradled,
stripped also and returned
to the ground, a trivial
and momentary clatter. Sleep
and be brought down, and so
condone the world, eased of
the jagged sky and all
its petty imageries, flying
birds, its fogs and windy
phalanxes . . ."
-   William Carlos Williams, Design for November

 

leftover creepy pictures and poems from Halloween