RED SUNSET

mistymorningme

Cape Cod July 2013_-60 (by jackfrench)

 

 

Sunset brings shadows with the night.

Birds of prey take off in dark flight.

Hues of red fill the night air.

High-pitched howls sound too near. 

Residents hide behind locked doors.

Is that blood seeping through the floors?

The forest rumbles with song and laughter.

Night parties filled to every rafter.

Limousines line the path to the glass house

Glass statues watch them, quiet as a mouse.

Dancing halts at the strike of midnight,

Twirling figures freeze in the moonlight.

THE DEAD GAME

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ICE COLD

 

 

The landscape is cold and bleak.

I’m beginning to feel weak.

 

Ice is melting in my shoes.

I’m getting the winter blues.

 

I can’t find my way from here.

I had thought the town was near.

 

I’ve been walking for days.

I’m in some kind of daze.

 

There’s a break in the rocks ahead.

I hope they don’t leave me for dead.

 

My friends have to come back to me.

Rocks and trees are all I can see.

 

My friends are in the park playing ball.

I didn’t have to be afraid at all.

A DEAFENING SILENCE

 

 

Desolate.

Alone.

Empty.

No neighbors.

The wind rattles my walls.

Snow layers my roof.

No peace.

Cold.

Icicles hang low.

A deafening silence.

Will winter end?

Will the horses return?

I wait and hope.

AN UNDERCURRENT OF EVIL

halftimeprincess:

 

 

The guests twirl and dance

between frozen statues.

Sad expressions for eternity

on their icy faces.

Wet tears flow

on frosty cheeks.

Beneath the music and gaiety

lies an undercurrent of evil.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

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Nook

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AN ARTIST’S PALETTE

sixpenceee

 

 

AN ARTIST’S PALETTE

 

Nature leaves an artist’s imprint

on all that it reaches.

Waves of the ocean can appear

in the coldest reaches.

Nature’s colorful palette

extends from the sky to beaches.

We might try to copy nature’s soft stroke,

but we must listen to what it teaches.

THE ICE HOUSE

 

 

 

The dance floor is full.

The guests twirl between statues.

Sad expressions etched into faces.

Tears flow down frosty cheeks.

An undercurrent of evil lies

beneath the music and gaiety.

Time to leave the perfect guests

and the frozen smiles.

Time to escape if one can.

THE DEAD GAME 

MY WORST NIGHTMARE

 

 

The Dead are coming to this place.

The moon trembles and bows its face.

Thunder strikes a chord in the distance.

No one can mount a strong resistance.

 

Lightning sizzles and dances in place.

Soon red and yellow strikes join the race.

I can see them returning in force.

Wolf is riding in on a black horse.

 

He leads his army to town.

He’s wearing a wicked frown.

I know he’s searching for me.

Quiet as a mouse I’ll be.

 

But soon he finds my hiding place.

Blaring trumpets pick up his pace.

Time has come to a sudden stop.

He stares at me from bottom to top.

 

He wants me for his frozen bride.

Too late for me to run or hide.

I stand up straight to meet him.

You could hear a dropping pin.

 

He takes me into his arms for a kiss.

But all I want to do is yell and hiss.

I don’t want to be one of The Dead.

I walk behind him with growing dread.

 

The battle lines have been drawn.

And I’m merely Wolf’s small pawn.

I pray Todd saves me instead

From a fate much worse than dead.

 

THE DEAD GAME continues…