Once a year I take the time for those souls who have no one left to carry their memories.
Upon Samhain I have a special date,
it's in a place adorned with granite stone,
within the ground are countless people's bone.
I'll join with them and will not make them wait,
it’s under darkness I will walk alone,
with thoughts of angels up inside my scone.
It's like I put myself out there as bait,
and then they call me like I'm on a phone,
but on the other end there is no tone.
I take fresh flowers, set them on the gate,
and watch them move as wind swept pedals blown,
I know their here when trees begin to groan.
For; they will follow and not hesitate.
They break the silence, I can hear them moan,
because they know that I have just come home.
Written for Honoring The Dead Contest.