PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

How sweet are rings

Aromatic in air

Of fantastic things

As rooted to chair



And the room is now dark

And kept thin of light

And evil will not enter

this green night



Flushes and pale are the drapes

The door and window fixtures

Starring stupidly out at nothing

Mere reflections of an ashen room



There, stripes of light

Here, a beam of wood

Over a walk of shadow

Here, a man stood

There, a mood ring night



Walking fast towards the door

Heard whispers in the corner...



Maybe the previous owners

Maybe an ancient gallows

Maybe an executioner's song

Maybe a hand-crank phone

Maybe a pathetic lament

on cold cement

Maybe a settling house

Or a tin ear



Someone is here

Someone is here



A puppet play in my mind

The house a cardboard box



It is curtain call

For whoever present



In the shadows