All Hallow's Eve - Poem by Draven Museus
The sun goes down and the ghouls come out,
In the form of kids all running about.
Yet things have not always gone this way
On the night before All Saints' Day.
We all dress up at the end of the Celt's year,
They knew Fall was ending, and Winter would draw near.
To their deities, crops and animals they'd burn,
Whilst Druids foretold prophecies in turn.
All dressed up in animal skins,
They'd attempt to tell each other's fortunes.
So on the night we celebrate Halloween in,
This is how they observed their own Samhain.
Now, the Roman Empire loved to expand,
Even to the far reaches of the Celtic land.
For the four hundred years they ruled here
Two celebrations that mixed with Samhain were clear.
The first, Feralia, to respect the deceased.
The next, for Pomona, goddess of fruit and trees.
Her symbol, the apple, represented her job,
And it’s for those same fruit that at parties we bob.
Now, the Catholic All Soul’s Day, as it would begin,
Was celebrated rather the same as Samhain…
Eventually this night for what the Celts would believe,
Would be forgotten and replaced, by All Hallows Eve.
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