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Songs from the Orange Book

by Justin Burning

/
1.
Take down the book from off the dusty shelf— Yes, brush away the cobwebs carefully; A jack-o'-lantern joined by fay and elf Adorns its orange cover scarefully. Take down the book of poems, charms, and spells, Such as enchant in autumn all the more— The goblin book that in a whisper tells Of Halloweens of old that went before. A witch's cackle echoes as you crack The cover slowly open, to the page Whereon is writ, in ink of cauldron black, A rhyme recalled from childhood's youngest age.... You read the words and travel through the Veil Back to a haunted, dim-remembered time, When with a filled and grinning candy-pail, By candlelight, you read each treasured rhyme.
2.
Past the glad and sunlit season, Past the solstice, sunlight's treason, When the shadows drown all reason 'Mid the autumn's red demesne, Then the jack-o'-lantern's laughter Flames at twilight, ever after— Then, the woodland witch will craft her Haunting spells of Halloween.
3.
There is a trail that through the woodland wends When autumn casts her crimson sorcery, But none can fathom where that pathway ends Beyond the mist and twilight tracery. Grim jack-o'-lanterns light the shadowed way, Each carven visage different from the last; They flicker over carpets of decay Where walk the restless spirits of the past. Soon I will wander down that haunted trail In search of fleeting, far October dreams, Against the chill and leaf-arousing gale, While yet the crescent moon so thinly gleams. I only know that I shall not return From where that pumpkin-lanterned pathway ends, So very deeply does my spirit yearn To heed the mournful summons that it sends.
4.
I roam wherever pumpkins grow And brambles bear their sting; Mine is the far and lonely glow— I am the Pumpkin King. The jack-o'-lantern is my crown; The vines upon me cling, And trail me like a long, green gown— I am the Pumpkin King. My kingdom fades at Summer's End; When midnight's toll should ring I vanish like an old, old friend— I am the Pumpkin King. But when October comes again, Its misty dreams to bring, I'll haunt once more the world of men— I am the Pumpkin King.
5.
The Fetch 01:02
Halloween is drawing nearer, Pumpkin lamps at twilight glow, And the attic's antique mirror, Dim with dust, begins to show Her angelic face the clearer As the autumn nights grow drearer, And her face to me is dearer, Dearer than I even know. Halloween is soon returning, Witches haunt the air unseen, And my heart and soul are yearning For the glamored eyes of green Of the lass I am discerning In the mirror clearer turning— Love, or devil, I'll be learning On the night of Halloween.
6.
With pointed cap of patterned crepe, And ruffled collar round her neck, She twirls her skirts where pumpkins gape, Through rooms that bats and goblins deck. I follow her throughout the rooms, Through smoke and weirdly mirrored halls, Befuddled by the incense fumes, And watched by blank white stares of dolls. I pass through black and orange beads, And find myself in open space; A path of lamps and lollies leads Through autumn woods with winding grace. A horse from some lost carousel Regards me with a tarnished gleam; Just where I wander, who can tell— Some haunted carnival of dream. A music box, half buried, plays Its melancholy melody; I meet the tiny dancer's gaze— But hurry past her desperate plea. At last I find a circus tent, And through the flaps, I step inside— And there, above her crystal bent, The clown witch winks, with grin so wide. She bids me gaze into the glass, And with my image I am faced— But from the crystal's dim morass, In fragile china fast encased, There stares a clown of porcelain, A pierrot with small cap complete— I am become a manikin, And 'mid the dolls I take my seat.
7.
The hallowed powers whisper through the trees, Awakening with every gust and sigh. These are the dark and ancient sorceries The Celts respected 'neath the purpling sky. These were the forces feared at Summer's End, When druids gathered round the Samhain flame, With only masks and costumes to defend Against the spirits that no grave can tame. The jack-o'-lanterns cast their shadow-shapes Like ghosts and witches over autumn lawns, While in the windows, glimpsed through rustic drapes, The rites of harvest last till morning dawns. October's embers fade through blackened boughs, An orange glamour strong as any spell, And as the darkness falls, I make my vows— To serve the hallowed powers true and well.
8.
O orange gourd, great emblem of our Day, All-hallowed pumpkin, pride of Halloween, Your shell alone is fit to house the sheen Of candlelight that keeps the imps at bay. We've chosen you to hold the Samhain Flame, And guard against the ghosts that haunt this night. Yours is the weirdly dancing, eldritch light Wherein is mystery without a name. You smile upon the autumn-littered lawn When in the evening twilight parts the Veil With spectral hands; you brave the night's travail With glowing gladness lasting till the dawn. The trick-or-treaters seek you one by one To learn a secret some will take to heart. You are the Hierophant; you play your part Throughout our lives—your work is never done. We worship you on porch, in pumpkin patch, Showing our dear devotion with our toil. How solemnly we till the summer soil... How lovingly we carve, and light the match.... You give yourself unto the carver's knife Year after year, hanged king of Harvest Home. But though you rot into the autumn loam— You rise again in spring with green new life. But we grow old, and spring returns no more, And then we place you on an ancient porch. You are the bearer of Tradition's torch, And you will teach our children ways of yore. O orange gourd, great emblem of our Day, All-hallowed pumpkin, pride of Halloween, When autumn comes for me, I'll walk between Dim life and death, with you to show the way.
9.
The moon rose up a pumpkin orange, and peered Through spooky clouds that crept across the stars. Upon its disc, a jagged grin appeared— A jack-o'-lantern carved of lunar scars. It was a sign of autumn nights to come, When shadows gather round the ancient blaze; Red leaves and evenings dyed a deeper plum, And labyrinths of lost October days. It was a summons for the most devout To carve their pumpkins and to worship them— To never let the hallowed flame go out, Unless in death they would their souls condemn. It was an omen that the time was nigh, And so I knelt beneath the grinning moon, And with a ghostly, soul-releasing sigh, Bathed in its beams, I gained October's boon.
10.
The darkly hallowed day is here, When faded sunlight strangely falls— When pumpkins everywhere appear, And crows all make their mournful calls. I wander home, bewitched by dreams, A scarlet crunch beneath my tread. The very air an omen seems— I hear the whispers of the dead. I hasten, for the shades of dusk Begin to gather in the sky. The world has all become a husk Through which the wind begins to sigh. I hasten, for I must prepare For twilight's rite of trick-or-treat, When jack-o'-lantern fires will flare Along this autumn-haunted street.

about

"Songs from the Orange Book" is an EP featuring the macabre spoken words of acclaimed Halloween poet K. A. Opperman and spooky sounds of "Songs of the Thinned Veil" composer Justin Burning. Featuring 10 odes to the season, "Songs from the Orange Book" is a guaranteed All Hallows' thrill.

All poems appear in K. A. Opperman's book, Past the Glad and Sunlit Season: Poems for Halloween, available via Jackanapes Press (www.jackanapespress.com).

credits

released October 2, 2020

Poetry & recitation by K. A. Opperman
Music, mixing, and mastering by Justin Burning
Cover art by Matt Dougherty

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Justin Burning Phoenix, Arizona

Justin has been composing music for over 20 years, primarily through bands like The Video Nasties, Dissonance, No Absolution, Fall of Empyrean, and The Liquescent Horror. Now, he primarily writes music for film, television, and other media. Justin lives in Phoenix, Arizona with his wife, two daughters, and dog. ... more

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