2

The resting of the land;the coldest days
to come; bare fields, hedges with icy glaze.
The morning mist, the evening's smoky haze.

3

A time for us to rest; to go within.
Remember those departed,friends or kin.
Tonight the veil between the worlds is thin.
 

4

A time to read the omens; time to heed
the guidance given for our future need.
To meditate on where our paths may lead.

5

A time for apple ducking, bonfires bright.
Lest we become too serious as we might.
Let children play their tricks; it's Mischief Night. 

6

The Hunter's moon is setting;dawn is nigh.
 On frosted hedgerows, broken cobwebs lie.
From skeletons of trees the last leaves fly.

7

In drab woods under leaves of gray
and brown, half-hidden brighter colours may
be glimpsed; toadstools, life burdting from decay. 

8

A cycle ends; the whole of Nature grieves.
But Mother Earth her web of life re-weaves.
And buds lie underneath the blackened leaves.