On Hallowe’en the old ghosts come
About us, and they speak to some;
To others they are dumb.
They haunt the hearts that love them best;
In some they are by grief possessed,
In other hearts they rest.
They have a knowledge they would tell;
To some of us it is a knell,
To some a miracle.
They come unseen, they go unseen;
And some will never know they’ve been,
And some know all they mean.
“The New Book of Days” by Eleanor Farjeon
On Tiffany Creek 