Shadows cast their sinister slinky
Fingers dark, the ministers of
Sharp-edged fright, that rob me
Of my sleep tonight...
I clutch the covers close to me,
My shoulders hunched in fear,
At the nights' macabre intensity,
Its' fetid, cold proximity...
A craftily sliding inky-blot
Of blackness gliding spot-to-spot,
Assumes with each eye-blinking,
A thousand terrors, slinking, slinking...
Upon the shadow-ridden wall,
I see my fate is written, all
The night to spend till bitten,
By the bed bugs, waiting, hidden...
Note: I thought I'd try something different for awhile and see how it goes. I'm reposting some of my earlier poems which I previously posted under my
account, but this time I'm including an audio clip of me performing a reading.