| |
Very late a night I was watching, An old, black and white
British mystery film. A figure of a woman lies on the
Rocky path, her hat is blowing slowly down the hill, her scarf
floats around her head, then gently softly drifts away.
A ghastly mansion, on a foggy, rock-strewn hill overlooks...
A Sleeping Village
Son speaks to his mother,
whispers harsh and shrill,
Mother?
Can she hear him, lying on the hill?
******
A mist slowly sweeps, a village asleep,
what dark secret must we keep?
Mother dear, do you sojourn, near?
It this the place that is filled with fear?
Footsteps shuffle on the dust path,
Softy, muffled, here at last.
Mother dear, are you listening near?
Is your heart filled with fear?
Dark shadow wavers, thin and tall,
Close, now to the garden wall.
Mother darling, are you watchful, dear?
Is this the place filled with fear?
Numb, deadened, muffled plea
dark secret silenced, don't you see?
Scarlet mist ~ murmur ~ breathless sigh,
Footstep fast receding ~ shadows die.
Mother darling, do you linger near?
Is this the place filled with fear?
Church bells peal, convey the call,
behold your mourners, one and all.
Mother dear, can you see them, here?
Is this the place you filled fear?
Village sleeping, tranquil here,
Was this the place filled with fear?
Mother dear, ......
Her only son. now tell me
was he the one??.......
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work from Poetry
|
|