Thursday, October 31, 2013

In Darkest Woods he Wandered © Steve McKee

shengyang railway station


 
In darkest woods he wandered,
one moonless stormy night.
The tree limbs made him shiver
reaching out through lightnings light.

The thunder rumbled its deep warning
and spoke of dreadful things;
for he was out on Halloween
with all it's dark heart brings.

His path led through the woods for miles
and eyeballs watched him travel;
He could feel their wicked smiles
while trying hard not to unravel.

Would he live another hour
or would dark forces take him down?
Would they this traveler overpower?
Did he hear hoof beats on the ground.

The thunder clapped the lightening flashed.
The tree limbs reached to slap at him;
He heard the evil cackle while
all his senses seemed to dim.

The rain was in his face now
as the storm just seemed to grow;
he was lying on his back
and how? he didn't know.

The fear engulfed his total being
he couldn't even speak
and all the evil he was seeing
only served to make him weak.

He jerked awake and saw beside him
another frightened form.
somehow they both were now
together in this awful storm.

He looked at her beside him
and said with eyes quite wide;
I don't feel like sleeping out,
I think I'll go inside!
 
 
 


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The Apparition

  by John Donne
When by thy scorn, O murd'ress, I am dead 
         And that thou think'st thee free 
From all solicitation from me, 
Then shall my ghost come to thy bed, 
And thee, feign'd vestal, in worse arms shall see; 
Then thy sick taper will begin to wink, 
And he, whose thou art then, being tir'd before, 
Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think 
         Thou call'st for more, 
And in false sleep will from thee shrink; 
And then, poor aspen wretch, neglected thou 
Bath'd in a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lie 
         A verier ghost than I. 
What I will say, I will not tell thee now, 
Lest that preserve thee; and since my love is spent, 
I'had rather thou shouldst painfully repent, 
Than by my threat'nings rest still innocent.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21078#sthash.Ndip7vVh.dpuf

The Apparition

  by John Donne
When by thy scorn, O murd'ress, I am dead 
         And that thou think'st thee free 
From all solicitation from me, 
Then shall my ghost come to thy bed, 
And thee, feign'd vestal, in worse arms shall see; 
Then thy sick taper will begin to wink, 
And he, whose thou art then, being tir'd before, 
Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think 
         Thou call'st for more, 
And in false sleep will from thee shrink; 
And then, poor aspen wretch, neglected thou 
Bath'd in a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lie 
         A verier ghost than I. 
What I will say, I will not tell thee now, 
Lest that preserve thee; and since my love is spent, 
I'had rather thou shouldst painfully repent, 
Than by my threat'nings rest still innocent.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21078#sthash.Ndip7vVh.dpuf

The Apparition

  by John Donne
When by thy scorn, O murd'ress, I am dead 
         And that thou think'st thee free 
From all solicitation from me, 
Then shall my ghost come to thy bed, 
And thee, feign'd vestal, in worse arms shall see; 
Then thy sick taper will begin to wink, 
And he, whose thou art then, being tir'd before, 
Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think 
         Thou call'st for more, 
And in false sleep will from thee shrink; 
And then, poor aspen wretch, neglected thou 
Bath'd in a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lie 
         A verier ghost than I. 
What I will say, I will not tell thee now, 
Lest that preserve thee; and since my love is spent, 
I'had rather thou shouldst painfully repent, 
Than by my threat'nings rest still innocent.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21078#sthash.Ndip7vVh.dpuf

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