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…..

2 Answers

Relevance
  • Joe K
    Lv 5
    1 decade ago
    Best 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!

  • Darbz
    Lv 5
    1 decade ago

    Only at night, and if no one else is home.

    Thanks

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