Lost; A Plea for Hallowe’en

Lost;  A Plea for Hallowe’en

Lost, one mischievous imp’s trident.
Where and when I can’t be sure
I know it was an accident,
Maybe waiting to happen.
Dropped on the floor, in the gutter?

It was a wet night, a week before Halloween
And I was sent, like the others,
To find my intent, my taunt, my scream.
But I lost it. In the rain. In the alley.
In the runnel where the water streamed
Maybe it fell down a drain.
I watched it, three-pronged and red
With glistening spots of dread
As it slipped, half- turned and flashed at me
To slide gracefully foaming along the dark below.

So I lost it.
You would never see my grin, the glint in my eye
when the poke at your foot broke your heel,
made you trip.
The catch in your eye was me, the shadow by the stair
that flickered or the noise that snickered in the lane came from my lips.

But now I can’t go home, my smile has to be true,
my questions are polite as I ask the local folk
if they have seen my little toy as it drifted away.
Washing along the gutter it went,
I saw the studs flash at me, a devil’s wink
catching in the watery sway.

I’ve lost my nerve, my verve, to jump and skitter
along the street and push you from the kerb
or switch the light on just as you switched it off.
Nor can I put that gnawing little doubt inside your brain
or add a tic, an ache that will not go away.
Where’s the fun, the sweet delight an imp might have
to play a game without my three-pronged device?

I am placid, weak and flaccid, hidden and of no account
without my prodding stick.  So please watch out
and if you see my lost, forlorn trident, pick it up
and rest it on your nearest hedge from where I’ll pinch it
and rejoicing, whirl it round this Hallowe’en and trick and treat like Puck.

 

j Johnson Smith

also tagged as seasons

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About poetryparc2

Here goes: I write a bit of poetry, sometimes about poetry and any sort of books I take a fancy to. I seem to have a preference for seeing the changes from the Victorian period through to the 1930's, maybe 50's. But, and a big but, could carry that right up to current poetry/performance poetry. Though sometimes my seeming preference for 'imagist' and Nature' might unnerve me for too much too modern. However, I do like to range widely over poetry, and fiction, any and all periods. I also like finding (if only for me) regional or partly forgotten poems and poets. Maybe all this is too eclectic to have a themed 'Blog' but so be it....... I also attempt fiction that might add up to a small mole-hill one day. Plus reviewing new or old books that are relevant to my enthusiasms of Crime fiction, the Arts, Natural History and Special Education. This is on 'wordparc'. I try to record honestly what I think but if something is too bad (to my mind, others may love it!!) then I will not 'blog'. There, what's that if not seemingly random!
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One Response to Lost; A Plea for Hallowe’en

  1. PhilipIvory says:

    The 31 Oct poem is delightful—about a recent event I imagine. There is light verse and light verse and this is of the better kind.

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