A poem.. * Who is afraid of a Boogey Man?* (cryptic?)Will you analyze and comment?
So let the boogey man make merry
I am heading straightway to the cemetery
I'm mad ... quite mad ... it seems
And underneath the moon derisive
Looking down on her with mocking
The mood is shallow and divisive
She falls down from wild dancing
Writhing on the ground…
Clouds float over wipe the moons face
She is reaching for her lover
Stars collide in outer space
As mist is rising from the grave…
Muted shades of tangerine
Permeate the shadows…
Frivolities are unforeseen
As jasmine perfume beckons
Moon is fading color blanching
Quickly clouds anticipating
Wrap their bodies round protecting
Evil now deliberating…
She as a zombie in demeanor
Led by tangled mists of steam
Entered into open crypt
As in a dream her body slipped…
A petrifying whisper blew
As tombstone slid back over
Sealed her in that mausoleum
As the sun was slowly rising
Over on a field of clover …
The morning headlines read in bold
Another missing person
While I am in my ‘jamas still
Dancing in the clover…..
- Joe KLv 51 decade agoFavorite Answer
We are vulnerable to what we 're afraid of, make a hunter out of it, till we become an easy prey for it. Fear consumes us, and devour our very bones. Fear hates joy, and that's the only protection we have against it.
Nice write, Nancy!
- DarbzLv 51 decade ago
Only at night, and if no one else is home.