Burnt amber fades away to brown;
a cackling moon appears to frown --
a glint of lantern’s light is hurled
at shadows of this Netherworld.
Hysteria is sung aloud;
a festival of souls endowed
begin a grim, yet hallowed chant
which escalates to gruesome rant.
Their lair, immersed in orange mist
carves echoes with ancestral fists
into reflective moonlit skies;
a whisper once unscathed, allies.
Whose treat is this? the spirits cry…
We’ll not find out – until we die!
Copyright © Lorraine M Kanter 30 Oct 2009
Their lair, soaked in red-orange mist
Poem mused from the Times Ten challenge for 24 Oct 2009. Words: grim, shadow, lantern, Netherworld, festival, orange, hysteria, treat, carve, moon
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner