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A Poem a Day Series – Day 17

Haunted Forest

Halloween

It was down in the woodland on last Hallowe’en,
   Where silence and darkness had built them a lair,
That I felt the dim presence of her, the unseen,
   And heard her still step on the hush-haunted air.
It was last Hallowe’en in the glimmer and swoon
   Of mist and of moonlight, where once we had sinned,
That I saw the gray gleam of her eyes in the moon,
   And hair, like a raven, blown wild on the wind.
It was last Hallowe’en where starlight and dew
   Made mystical marriage on flower and leaf,
That she led me with looks of a love, that I knew
   Was dead, and the voice of a passion too brief.
It was last Hallowe’en in the forest of dreams,
   Where trees are eidolons and flowers have eyes,
That I saw her pale face like the foam of far streams,
   And heard, like the night-wind, her tears and her sighs.
It was last Hallowe’en, the haunted, the dread,
   In the wind-tattered wood, by the storm-twisted pine,
That I, who am living, kept tryst with the dead,
   And clasped her a moment who once had been mine.

“Hallowe’en” was published in The Poems of Madison Cawein: Volume V: Poems of Meditation and of Forest and Field (Small, Maynard & Company, 1907). It is in the public domain. This poem is in the public domain.

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Thoughtful Tuesday: Confessions

When I was in high school, (decades ago 😦 #BlackDon’tCrack, #I’mPartElf,) I had read Lovecraft’s “The Music of Erich Zann”. I was like, “Cool. This is a really creepy story with a really creepy ending!”

This was before information was so readily available and at one’s fingertips within seconds.

Dial Up_Internet

Perhaps the H & P in Lovecraft stands for “hateful person”. Boy, the irony in his surname is ridiculously thick.

Back then, I didn’t know the little idiot was a hateful, bitter, pathetic racist.

And when I found out?

My rage was over 9000.

vegeta raging super saiyan

Micro-Fiction Mondays: Mr. Teddy Goes Splat

According to Fiction Factor, (http://www.fictionfactor.com/articles/wordcount.html) Micro-Fiction is a very abbreviated story and often difficult to write, and even harder to write well, but the markets for micro fiction are becoming increasingly popular in recent times. Publishers love them, as they take up almost no room and don’t cost them their budgets. Pay rates are often low, but for so few words, the rate per word averages quite high.

The word limit is 100 words. Yes, only one hundred words!

Here’s my first attempt at Micro-Fiction. Happy reading. 🙂

Nora paused, inches from the road congested with idling cars. Red light. She stole a glance over her shoulder, aware of the murderous teddy bear pursuing her, his wicked beady black button eyes watching her. Soon, the traffic light would flash green. She pedaled into the metal jungle, weaving around honking cars on her tricycle. A roar of engines signaled the changing light. She pedaled faster. Once safely across and heart pounding, she stared at her cunning footwork: white fluff and remnants of furry arms and legs stared back at her, oozing with blood. She smiled, triumphant against Mr. Teddy.