Poem By Shannon M. Thompson

Snuggled down, in a cove, of pillow and cover;
As the song, of the invisible night, starts to hover. With a titter-tap, from the web, of the old oak tree,
Flesh, sounds the question of: "Do they come for me?" Fear, deepened by the wind's howl, that beckons the wars of night;
Backed, by the memory, of the boogie man, that kidnaps men, full height. And so, it seems, that the hiding witches can sacrifice one more,
To the devil's one-eyed army, that camps behind the door. You realize, while watching, the bloody games of ghosts and ghouls;
That even, the closet spiders, feel safe, to leave their darkened pools. Peeking, as the cat's hiss, muffles the witches' cackle;
The mind senses, it's not long before the dull fire's crackle. As the fading crescent moon covers the stains, of these sparse visions;
Night will swallow, the burnt images, of these shadowed missions. But, when from under the bed, comes a creek, shake, and rattle,
Little Davie knows: It's time for teddy, to go tattle.

Comments about Monsters

Shannon I enjoyed every line, keep it up

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Other poems of SHANNON M. THOMPSON

Bow In Strife

In a discerning character, born to nature's eye;
Waters onus soldiers unmottedly pass by. With the essence of void, in it's flowing manes;
The hematite glass, mirrors the stoop, it claims. Misty waves spread like wings, to transcend;
Beyond this tombstone, where rivers drowned and bend. Marking the gibbous reach, of eternity's battleground,

Life To Choose

Intermingle sweet springs, with peering feathered scowls.
Allowing courage, to shade roadless travel's unmuted howls.
Painting the past faded, in destiny's children warred.
As the moon's night flicker thought, in lost souls adored.