5th Halloween Poem Contest – 2nd Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander



Donna Matthews

goblins and ghouls shrieking all night
it’s halloween! the witches dance and sing
haunting humanity with terror and fright

vampire bats wake and take flight
tender young necks a delicious thing
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night

gravediggers shovel dirt; sneering with delight
human spare and found parts they fling
haunting humanity with terror and fright

the boogeyman tall, fearsome and might
terror and dread his shadow will bring
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night

zombies moan in the bright moonlight
out of the grave and wandering
haunting humanity with terror and fright

the graveyard bathed in an eerie green light
it’s halloween! the witches dance and sing
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night
haunting humanity with terror and fright

All Hallow’s eve Candy Girl


Marjory Mallon

Curvaceous candy stick girl
Her brash hair is pink
Her nails are too
She sashays by and disappears.
A tickled pink apparition

of rainbow stripy stockings.
She teases with her lipstick smile
Twirls by too darn quick
Like champagne bubbles
Blinking through false lashes. See

a passerby’s hair is now lollipop blue.
Nails a pretty sky hue
Captured joining sweetest nibbles!
She sighs, candy-lipped
As sensual silks sway

in symphonies of sweet organza.
Come bubblegum hearts
Sugar sweet babes,
Licorice all-sorts.
Let’s sashay away marshmallows,

Trick or Treat, sugar-tipped
Coins, gum, pick and mixes
Chewy, jelly, sherbet fixes
Candy cone bites mingle

as Joker snatches bonbon handfuls.
Devils desire red chilli sweets
Vampire fangs dip in space dust
Pumpkins gobstopper around
Addams family – Cousin Itt

who sits with VIP scary magic minx’s,
Witches, and sugar twitches
Cocktail umbrellas and alcohol pitchers
The party heightens and revels
Trick or tricksters tumble

trapped In sugar-coated ditches.
Ghostly gatecrasher’s senses tremble
One chocolate heart’s never enough!
Skeletons, please… die, resuscitate
Join us for one last fizzing bite!


The Churchyard at Night


Stevie Turner

A hooting owl
Sits on a bare branched yew,
While shadows from the moon
Creep across the tombs.
Fog rolls in from the east
And the churchyard sleeps.
The chiming of midnight
Is a doleful sound.
It wakes up the corpses
Who live down in the ground.
One by one
They moan and taunt,
And go a-haunting
As is their want.
They rattle their chains
And scream with all their might,
The living hear them and fear
All things going bump in the night.
No one is safe
Until daylight seeps through
The bare branches
Of the aforementioned yew.



Anisha Jain

The rusty, creaky iron door
Welcomes you in to the land of the dead
Where, to Hades’ ravenous earth,
Bodies of the dead are fed.

The chilling wind and moonless night
Are a reminder of their last moments-
How their body went cold and eyes lost light,
How they took a last wheezy breath.

The gravestones stand like sentries
On the battlefield of the graveyard,
Each guarding its own;
For who knows when claustrophobia might strike ’em.

Each one with a different epitaph-uniform
Like the shortest biographies in the world,
A whole life crammed in a couple lines
Just like the body in the coffin inside.

Some moss-covered, some cracked
Some’s uniform so worn,
You can’t even decipher the engravings
A whole life, forgotten.

Flowers, once red, but now so withered
They crumble into dust at the slightest touch,
Their bond with the living plane broken
Dead, like the subjects of the tombstones.

Here and there you might see a snake
Come to guard the dead from the living,
To see that no one crosses the Styx alive
Lending a hand to the boatman.

The oaks and pines are grave,
Just like the yard they grow in
Realising that none but the gods are immortal
Thanatos will come for them one day.

One day this graveyard will grow so vast
That it covers the entire Earth,
One day no one will be left to give
Living roses to the dead.


5th Halloween Poem Contest – 1st Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander

The Hunt…


Christopher Graham

It was Halloween night, the full moon was bright,
why did you choose the witching hour
to explore this old house, where not even a mouse,
would eat any food, it would be sour.

Then a spooky sound, echoes around.
Claws, clickety, clacking on the floor.
You look all about, and know without doubt.
They’re coming from just outside the door.

Suddenly … silence … there can be no more pretence.
You know, that they know, where you are.
The window is open, but is that just a token?
Are there others waiting by your car?

The choice is stark, to go out in the dark,
and take the chance it’s all clear.
The handle starts turning, your stomach is churning,
Is it one, or two, or all … Oh Dear.

No time to plead, you must take the lead,
through the window and drop to the ground.
Get onto your feet, run fast and fleet,
over the hedge you bound.

Use all your cunning and keep on running,
The river is near, flowing water they won’t cross.
You reach the bank, the water smells rank.
Time to swim like a Boss.

You gasp and wallow, find the river is shallow,
so you splash to the other side.
Climb out, look about,
there must be somewhere to hide.

The moon is still high, no clouds in the sky,
There’s a light you can see up ahead.
Safety at last? Is the danger passed?
But then, to your uttermost dread.

Howling has started, you feel faint hearted.
They’d found a bridge and had crossed.
To the light you race, without trying for grace.
Then suddenly, the light is lost.

You sink to your knees, your breathing a wheeze.
They found you lying prostrate.
Their fangs were bare, as they grin and stare.
“Good game Mistress, really first rate.”

Your three dogs leap about, as if to shout,
”We won again, fair and square”
Without further ado, with some barks and a BOO,
all head for home, they for treats, you to have a shower.

You Glow


Sleeping In Bed With Jumpers On

Whispered to me, on the holy Wiccan hour.
Fool’s searching answers from the Page of swords. The crucible in his poison-lips. My hands turn cold.
Poised for the lovers to show me the mystic.
Eyes so sad, desperate for the eternal witness.
He tasted of a street corner- malice curiosity,
birthed with the caul, with foresight he led.
My body performing for him. He will never want me deeper.
Drink my offering – pray in threes: have me, have me, have me.
Tongs dance with serpents in figure eights.
Hands nailed open, from the past I asked for.
Fingernails chewed to the wick- a warning of fouls profits.
Blistered saws- snubbed out black candlesticks.
He tore away flesh as I fastened my grip.
Powdered salt lips- gently playing to contort.
Bulling out the needle, not thinking of the scare.
Obscurity startled the black ally cat.
Talking in tongs of a lover that meant more.
Standing mute. Under the harvest full moon.
Inspecting my entrails for answers to leave.
I gave thanks to the sacrifice that tended my needs.
The body crumbled, as he revealed his true vengeance.
The spell, broken. I saw behind the seven veils.
This creature of the night. Christened by spite.
Hands over eyes- I was left dancing in crop circles.

Halloween Poem


Catherine Ross

On one hallows eve
The text said meet me
In the graveyard
By the guards
Of the iron gate.

It said there’ll be a date.
Though I must say
It was weird in a way
My Vampiric sensors alarmed
I’m not easily charmed.

My sarcophagus quietly opened
I went into the unknowing
The full moon showed the dirt trail
Found the gate without fail
Arrows led me to a stone.

Its familiar name glowed.
The one from the text,
Now had me perplexed.
The dirt began to move,
“Hello, my love, do you approve?”

I felt a pain in my right arm
My blood had been farmed
She and I had become one
“My love, what have you done?
For it cannot be reversed.”

“You are forever cursed.”
“We’ll be together forever,” she exclaimed.
I should feel ashamed
“My love, together forever it will be.”
On one hallows eve.


October 31st


James Gaynor


Once you open the door
it can be hard to tell
under feathers and masks
swan from princess
prince from frog
because so often
they are both

The bedsheet ghosts
can be bribed to go haunt
the neighbors but
once the door is open
your own phantoms appear
an invisible few
you know who

They won’t go away and
never stop talking about
what should have been different
despite now knowing it all
could only have been what it was
which is why they’re dead
and you’re not

And that’s life
once you open the door


5th Halloween-Poem Contest – Jury introduction – and Start Up

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/



I am honored to announce that the following authors have agreed to participate as judges in the jury who will decide on the winners of the contest:

Author Raymond Walker
Author Sherry Perkins
Author A. J. Alexander

Thank you, authors, for your effort to be part of this contest!

There will be three winners in the 4th Halloween poem contest. Each of them is free to choose from the following prizes:

Signed Paperbacks with a T-Shirt of Hiding from the Light  – OR – Winter’s Ghost – OR –  The Painting written by Raymond Walker
E-book of A Horse by Any Other Name: A Doctor Butterbaugh Mystery  – OR – E-book of A Girl and Her Dog: A Short Story – OR –  At the End of the Rainbow – OR –  What you wished for,  written by Sherry Perkins
E-book of “Soul Taker” – OR – “Sundance‘ written by Aurora Jean Alexander

I’m very grateful for these excellent authors to offer their books as a prize in this contest. Thank you!



Every author and poet are invited to participate and deliver a “Halloween-Poem” to my email address: aurorajean.alexander@aol.com, together with their picture and a link to their website and/or blog.

There are a few rules to follow:

  • Your poem needs a Halloween theme.
  • Your poem needs a minimum of 99 words.
  • Your poem has to be delivered to my email address between October 10 and Halloween, October 31, 2019, 9 pm Central Standard Time.
  • Your poem has to be delivered together with your picture and a link to your blog/page.
  • Please avoid violence, bad language, and sexual content within the poems. It would be disqualified.

Every poem that meets the rules and is delivered within the deadline will be published here on “Writer’s Treasure Chest” together with the provided picture and link.

The contest starts October 10, 2019, 06.00 am and ends October 31, 2019, 09.00 pm Central Standard Time!!

Please, deliver your poem and your picture to my email address within this time frame, neither earlier, nor later. Poems arriving outside these 3 weeks will be disqualified.


We’re looking forward to your poems! Write away, ladies and gentlemen, we are ready!

A. J. Alexander

BOAW – Blog Fest – Girl Boner Entry – PG-18

This post is part of the Beauty of a Woman BlogFest VI! To read more entries, and potentially win a fun prize, visit the fest page between today and 11pm PST March 11th.


Lies, boring sex and does size really matter?

Once upon a time… It was a while ago I was in a relationship I considered to be happy. It was a long-distance, long-term relationship, and later engagement. And there it languished. If we had lived closer together, I eventually had realized much earlier, that this guy was a lazy, lying, nightmarish sociopath. But for a while I was happy. He made me happy. He made me feel like I was the only one, the prettiest, the most beautiful woman! (I found out later he told this to at least 6 or 7 other women too – at the same time – but that’s not subject of this post).

At the time he made me happy, satisfied me in bed until I finally realized two things: The man had literally no idea how a female body works, and I wasn’t sure whether he was properly educated when it comes to the ‘birds and the bees’.

Maybe this might help him:

Yes, he carefully watched my reactions, and I figure his request for me to let myself go and make noises during sex made it easier for him to see what action leads to what reaction. But other than that, he was more or less helpless.

·    He had no idea why women menstruate

·    He had no clue how to recognize when a woman fakes an orgasm

·    He was totally oblivious how many orgasms a woman can have before dying

·    He figured the more orgasms, the better satisfied

·    The thought of a woman faking an orgasm just to get him off her finally never occurred to him.

As for me: I finally realized how boring this man was. All he was (and probably still is) interested in is sleeping, eating and sex. And there we go: He was even boring in bed. Due to us being apart for long times and then meeting again, it took me a while to find out that these sexual meetings always followed a certain program. Like a time frame, or maybe a ‘user manual.’

1. Tell her you love her

2. Tell her she’s beautiful

3. Tell her you missed her

4. Repeat point 1 – 3 excessively

5. Undress her

6. shower with her (because she insists)

7. tell her some more she’s beautiful

8. give her oral satisfaction

9. extend that until she screams

10. before she sneaks off (again), finally try to get your own satisfaction (provided it stands)

That was about it. There was no variation, no ideas, no new things, nothing magic, not even much fun after a certain time.

In the end, I finally just sighed and shortened the entire happening somewhere between point 1 and 4 – and again around point 7 and 8. Earlier screaming makes the entire thing end up faster, right?

And there was something else that irritated me to no end: his pride about the size of his penis. I just frowned at him when he mentioned the 9 inches. Do I need to understand what the point is why men need to show off their size? Provided of course they have it! Because of these 9 inches were, if not a lie, at least an exorbitant exaggeration. To this day I still believe he read that one number ‘upside down.’ It would explain a lot.

At the end it came as it had to: The relationship came to an end. Do I regret what happened? In a way, I do, yes. It shouldn’t have taken this long for me to realize how boring the man was, both in and outside the bed.

It took me a while to get out of the grief – but once I got over it, I thought, okay. Next time it will be better. And I thought it did…


Unexpectedly and to my great surprise a man from my past showed up out of the shadows. Over 20 years ago we had worked together on a project, but once the project had ended, we’ve never seen each other again.

That man was so handsome when he was younger! Back then he had swept me off my feet. And now he came back into my life to do just the very same thing again. I’m no kid, and I usually don’t suffer from unexpected hallucinations. He got older, just as I did. We all change a bit with age. The only difference is that I’m realistic about it – he isn’t.

His way of making love with me was to ‘jump on me,’ wild, feral… his foreplay limited to the words “Are you awake?”

Considering the years before I had the most boring sex one can only imagine, this might have been a welcome change. For just a moment. Then I woke up. My man complained I was “too aroused.” I hate to say that, but I had to really, I mean, really control myself extremely hard not to laugh out loudly. Why? Let’s say it this way: As a woman in love, you don’t tell the man of your desire that he does turn you on, but unfortunately he’s got a penis about the size of an IHOP breakfast sausage.

And no, this is not me making fun of him. I’m 5’3″ and never had a child. My gynecologist uses his instruments the size for young girls – and still, I had the feeling having sex with my boyfriend was like throwing a wiener into a garage… What does that tell us? The good thing was: I knew it wasn’t me. He is that convinced everything about him, on him and in him is totally perfect, he had to find a reason why our sexual being together wasn’t as good as he wanted it to be. And since he “is” perfect, it was my fault.

Only a while later he told me, he wanted me to lose weight. – And that was it for me. Couldn’t he find a way to accept me the way I am; even more since he told me before that he would? I informed him that it was time to say ‘goodbye.’

To my great surprise, this got to me. I was extremely depressed after this separation. I missed him horribly… But I am lucky. I have the most wonderful friends on Earth. They helped me getting over him and comforted me.

I think the final moment when I was prepared to let go, was that particular day when I went grocery shopping and heard a song that reminded me of him. In a blur, our time together raced through my memory… and I thought to myself: “Really, girl… did you want to stay together with a man who is that bad in bed?” And then I started laughing.

It is, I might add at this point, a little embarrassing to laugh out loudly and being unable to stop, in the middle of a supermarket, right between broccoli and bananas. However, I made it out alive. The only thing I regret until this day is, that I never gave him “The Kamasutra” for his birthday.


These two relationships taught me three things; I better keep in mind from now on:

1. I need a man who has a goal in life that goes further than meals, sleep, and sex. I need a man who moves his ass and works for what he wants and has a certain fantasy and ideas; a man with a certain education, whose messages I can read without flinching over the misspellings and who is experienced and interested enough to find out how to satisfy a woman. A man, with whom sharing intimacy makes my skin tickle, my skull explode until I can count the stars in the sky and my toenails roll up.

2. Does size really matter? To me, it does, yes. Do I compare? Was that one better than this one? Hell no! The size of the penis isn’t half as interesting as the man that’s accompanying it. But to me, there needs to be ‘something’ to feel.

3. I am, in my very individual and unique way, beautiful. And I deserve better than what I have been accepting of a relationship for the past few years.


I, therefore, decided to celebrate my beauty. I am unique; I am special, I am beautiful, I am humorous, loving, caring and helpful… I am many things; and yes, in bed I’m a revelation. *wink*

I deserve to have what I want, and I deserve to be happy!


Picture courtesy of: http://www.theworld-aroundus.com/life/having-sex-twice-in-a-row-has-an-amazing-effect-on-fertility/
Picture courtesy of: http://www.theworld-aroundus.com/life/having-sex-twice-in-a-row-has-an-amazing-effect-on-fertility/

BOAW – Blog Fest 2016: Beauty changes during the time

Waterolor beautiful girl. Vector illustration of woman beauty salon
Waterolor beautiful girl. Vector illustration of woman beauty salon


This year I signed up to participate in the “Beauty of a Woman Blog Fest”, organized by August McLaughlin. Please enjoy the entire Blog Fest by clicking the link.

It is with great pleasure I am able to present my blog participation with the following post:



Beauty changes during the time:

In the 50s and 60s, the ultimate beautiful woman had a so-called “hourglass” figure. A chest, a butt and a small waist. Let’s travel back in time: in all big “fashion houses” the dresses and clothes were presented to the potential customers. The presenters weren’t window dummies – but real life “Mannequins”. We would call them the predecessors of the Models and Top-Models.


They were women – chest, hips and a small waist were their trademark. Even the most beautiful actresses and female stars of this time were fuller-figured women with the same measurements. Female beauty ideal back then was curvy, beautiful, feminine, showing their amenities and being proud of them.


Sophia Loren (Picture courtesy of www.google.com)
Sophia Loren (Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)
Marilyn Monroe (Picture courtesy of www.google.com)
Marilyn Monroe (Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)
Ursula Andress (Picture courtesy of www.google.com)
Ursula Andress (Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)












The 70s and 80s show women, who remarkably slimmed down, their curves are still there, but not as explicitly distinct anymore.

I don’t dare to talk too much about the hairstyle and makeup which in my opinion, used to make women of these times look a little bit like extra-terrestrial clowns… but in many ways, their styles showed how much they enjoyed being women.


Michelle Pfeiffer (Picture curtesy of www.google.com)
Michelle Pfeiffer (Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)
Kim Basinger (picture curtesy of www.google.com)
Kim Basinger (picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)













The late 80s and 90s brought us breathtaking women, even slimmer, their features often gentle, almost delicate, their curves about to disappear. 


Audrey and Judy Landers (Picture curtesy of www.google.com)
Audrey and Judy Landers (Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)
Heather Locklear (picture curtesy of www.google.com)
Heather Locklear (picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)












And then, with the entrance into the new millennium the female beauty ideal quickly went into the “nothing”… just skin and bones, no hips, no breasts, nothing: walking skeletons on wobbly legs.

Is this really how we women should be, or how we want to be?

When I was talking about this to a group of people a few years ago, a wise man told me: “Don’t starve yourself to this kind of figure, girl. You are right, the way you are. Skeletons aren’t sexy.”

I still love him for this sentence.


(Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)



Or: we got this kind of new, plastic surgical ‘beauty’:


(Picture curtesy of www.google.com)
(Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)
(Picture curtesy of www.google.com)
(Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com)












Do I have to say something about it? Really?


Maybe a few might be curious why I was going through all these changes and travelling back in time: What made me? – How do I look then? What is my figure like?


I’m not saying too much. Except:


(Picture courtesy of: http://cliparts.co/clipart/3550410)



I have always been a little on the “more”-side and the criticism I had to take for this from all sides have hurt me deeply. During the years, when I had found out that my figure was very fashionable and once a beauty ideal all women wanted to have, I found this fact amusing – but not more. How was this useful for me? I wanted to be fashionable now. With my figure, I was born about 30 years too late. 


Am I ever going to be most beautiful to someone who I’d like to welcome into my life? Someone who loves me, just the way I am? With my soft heart, all the love I have to give and my hips, breasts and hourglass figure? 

Now I’m curious… Have you ever had experience with criticism on your figure? Are you happy with yours? Let us hear your experience. 

Thanks for your visit.




Book Quote Challenge – Day Three

This last day of the challenge, day three, I chose three quotes from Umberto Eco’s “Name of the Rose”.



I prepared this post February 19, 2016 in the morning, without knowing that the writer of these quotes and this fantastic book would pass away Friday Night in Milan.

R. I. P. Umberto Eco! You will be missed by many authors whose inspiring example you were!

Umberto Eco


Each of this quotes came from the lips of one of the main characters, Franciscan Friar, William of Baskerville. A monk, a teacher, a former inquisitor, an investigator – and foremost, a book lover.

How much I admire him and his wisdom. But read for yourself:



“Show not what has been done, but what can be. How beautiful the world would be if there were a procedure for moving through labyrinths.”  


“Nothing gives a fearful man more courage than another’s fear.”  


“How peaceful life would be without Love, Adson. How Safe. How Tranquil. And how Dull.”  



I was told I will have to continue the challenge by nominating three writers/bloggers who will be willing to post their own quotes.

My three nominees are:

Jen Owenby: https://jenowenby.wordpress.com/

Bette A. Stevens: http://4writersandreaders.com/

Jennifer Hinsman: https://hinsmanj.wordpress.com/

I’m sure we’re going to get the most amazing book quotes from you!! I can’t wait to read them. Good Luck and have fun!



Picture courtesy of: http://revistamagna.com.ar/el-libro-perdido-la-risa-perdida/



Book Quote Challenge – Day Two

Today, on Day Two I picked three quotes from one of the best books ever written: James Clavell’s Shogun.


I personally think these quotes are so impressive, true and powerful, it isn’t really important which character said them.

In every single case, their truth and significance within their purity touched me.



“How beautiful life is and how sad! How fleeting, with no past and no future, only a limitless now.”  



“Patience means holding back your inclination to the seven emotions: hate, adoration, joy, anxiety, anger, grief, fear. If you don’t give way to the seven, you’re patient, then you’ll soon understand all manner of things and be in harmony with Eternity.’ ”  


“We have a saying that time has no single measure, that time can be like frost or lightning or a tear or siege or storm or sunset, or even like a rock.”  




Picture courtesy of: http://www.kreis-archiv.de/filme/shogun.html
Picture courtesy of: http://www.kreis-archiv.de/filme/shogun.html