GHOULAH

The moon a waxing gibbous she,

illuminates this hallowed ground   neath
silhouettes’ of swaying trees,

and in this graveyard here stand I

and drool as little kids pass by

and know this night I will not gorge upon the dead,

but indecent feasts of kids instead.

Anna :o]

Björn at dVerse hosts Poetics tonight and of course we are to write of monsters!  The twist is that we should give voice to said monsters, and above is my offering.  Cheers for the inspiration Björn!

(Also shared with the good folk at Real Toads – cheers Magaly.)

Oh dear, I seem to have a bone stuck between my teeth…kids! :o]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Image:  Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Source:   Le Père Peinard, in Le Péril anarchiste