A Blessed Town In the swirling tide of the River Dee As it moves towards Annagasson’s cauldron We tramped across the bridge of dreams A wandering band of Halloween players. As the October moon over the Nun’s steeple Played tricks on our childish imaginations The fireworks and bangers pushed out the boat We were on fire with Halloween’s energy field. Past Cuchulainn’s battle rage as Ferdia moved towards Smarmore’s healing baths. In the twinkle of an eye I was back At the Ford watching a pitched battle. When we reached the Statue of Vere Foster, Halloween’s demise was sadly over My strange imagination wanted more As friends and foes moved homewards At that moment I knew my head was strange I could see the statue moving, The ground itself like shifting sands Moved under my feet. At twelve years I knew this swirling feeling Was the beginning of a inner tensions The rush of blood to my forehead As Winter’s icy Season begins. Sean Ross