RED LACE

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AN INDIGO MIST

WHO GOES THERE?

IN THE GREEN

 

 

Green grows deep in the forest,

slithering up the tall trees,

digging holes in the brown earth.

The earth rumbles and quakes,

yearning to free itself

from the shackles of green

tethered to its arms and legs.

Soon all is slathered in the lime color

as a green mist gathers and circles.

 

EYES TO THE SKY

 

Light squeezes between the leaves.

Eyes to the sky serve me best.

Rays cast hot fingers on me.

Sun has passed its daily test.

 

The circle widens and deepens.

A place to while away the day.

I keep to its rounded corners.

A place I’ve come to love and pray.

 

THE HOUSE WITHIN

Source:

 

The wind blows through the trees,

ruffling the blanket of grass,

striking a path through the woods.

The path leads the way

to the house within,

to End House at Oasis.

 

THE DEAD GAME

TO HEAL A WITCH

Source:

 

Or so they say.

I follow them into the woods

to the house waiting in the distance.

They roam at night

under the full moon.

The Dead walk among them,

or so we are told.

THE DEAD GAME

TRAPPED IN HELL

Sascha Schneider (German, 1870–1927), Eichenwald auf Ruegen (Oak Forest on Ruegen Island), 1925

 

The forest grows dark.

It has come alive.

Wooden arms reach for me.

Roots uncurl from the ground.

Trees shake and dance

to the moans of the wind.

Dark shadows follow me.

Moonlight teases me.

I’m trapped in hell,

where the sun doesn’t shine.

THE DEAD GAME

WINTER BLUES

Source:

 

 

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 out of here.

I had thought the town was so 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 didn’t leave me for dead.

My friends have to come back for 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.

FOLLOW THE LIGHTS

halftimeprincess: Art by Augusto Peixoto . IrondoomDesign DEVIANTART

 

 

FOLLOW THE LIGHTS

 

Follow the lights to the house of glass.

There will be much splendor in the grass.

Lights in the trees as far as the eye could see.

A more decadent event there could not be.

Champagne will be flowing until the wee hours.

Come with me and dance among the pretty flowers.

This room full of guests gives me a chill.

Maybe we should leave I’ve had my fill.

Eyes are following us in the room.

They will be upon us all too soon.

The guests are not what they appear.

Beneath they are just bones and hair.

 

THE DEAD GAME