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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1531537
by Bruce.
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Folklore · #1531537
A spooky walk home. Rhyme.
I’ve often walked along that lane, on darkened nights in gloom and rain,
And full moon nights so bright and clear, when strange shapes form then disappear.
That eerie lane I must admit, has sometimes frightened me a bit,
But I’ve not been so full of fright, as when I walked that lane tonight.

Two creatures running rapidly, like they were making straight for me.
Massive bodies, icy stares, they weren’t foxes, they weren’t hares.
They stopped while I stood full of fear, then turned away to disappear.
Were the creatures scared of me, or something that I couldn’t see?

Dark shapes began to flicker by, they multiplied and hid the sky.
Flying demons after me, I ran away trying to flee.
A squealing sound rang through the air, I turned around there’s nothing there.
The sky was clear but fears remain, that squealing sound rang out again.

Tall branches swayed like evil claws, searching for food for hungry jaws.
A lonely moth just touched my face, I sprinted off and left the place.
Were they badgers, were they bats, were the squeals the sound of cats?
I only know I won’t be seen, back down that lane next Halloween.

© Copyright 2009 Bruce. (brucef at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1531537