POETRY CORNER WITH POISON IVY AND FRIENDS: SPECIAL HALLOWEEN HORROR POETRY EDITION

WELCOME HALLOWEEN LOVERS! 

I, Poison Ivy and Friends, are so happy to see you all here today. You have just walked into our very special Halloween Horror Poetry Corner that will entertain you like never before. We are joined today by a few of our regular poets here at the poetry corner and we also have some very new participants trying poetry for the first time so lets welcome them with open arms. I must say that I did enjoy each and every submission, as I always do but nothing is more entertaining than some Halloween fun and twisted tales. Enjoy the journey! 

POETRY HALLOWEEN HORROR CHALLENGE 

The rules to this poetry challenge was very difficult to come up with but it had to be done. 
All the participants were asked to write a Halloween themed poem and to have tons of fun while writing it. 

HAPPY READING! 

Zombie bumble by Sebastian Andrews
(Zombie Bumble collaborated illustration by Sebastian Andrews and an Anonymous Artist)

A walk down the street and what do you meet but zombies who have risen from their graves. 
One so close, mangled and gross and its human brains he craves. 
Another approaches and to the other he coaches and smacks him upside his head. 
He points and growls, looks at you and scowls you laugh and say “well said”. 
He tries to close in, you say with a grin “ you’re movin a bit to slow”
You continue to tease, very at ease and say “yo momma was a big fat hoe”
Step to the side, right and left you slide as the zombie continues to advance. 
Your confidence on the rise, you sway as you trivialize and ask the zombie to dance. 
The zombie rolls his eyes, and once again he tries and surprise, you’re dead. 
Your accident prone, you tripped on a stone and lopped off the back of your head.  
A big zombie smile and a zombie hog pile as your brains flop out of your skull. 
After the pounce, the brain did bounce, leaving no time to mull It rolls down the gutter, their hearts all a flutter they rise to give it chase
One dives for the prize which was very unwise, he won’t be winning the race. 
It was pretty intense, he didn’t see the fence and now he’s wiggling and impaled 
Another slides in head first, hit the wall and burst, we’ll just called it …failed. 
Some make strides, keeping pace along side, pushing  the others down
The brain hits a bump, hits the road with a thump and continues to roll towards town. 
Zombies have no luck, they didn’t hear the Mac truck and SPLAT!!  3 adhere to the grill. 
Here comes a car!!! Oh, that’s gonna leave a scar, 2 dragged by the chassis down the hill.
One climbs a wall only to fall in the raging river below
There was a loose block now he’s a spot on a rock cuz the water was waaaaay to shallow. 
The brain comes to rest in an alley recessed one zombie stands alone
He scoops it in his hands, looks and scans, the brain is all his own.
He drools with delight and goes for a bite when he hears an eerie sound
He looks up to see a falling tree which pounds him into the ground.

The Reckoning by Jesse Batista

Deep in the dark canopied forest, opens the gates of hell. 
The night creatures sing in chorus until the rise of the sulfuric smell.  
A quickened hush as they scurry through the brush as the ground rumbles and shakes. 
The Earth crumbles while the soil jumbles and the land gives in to the quakes.   
A plume of smoke gives the rising a cloak and the flames shoot from the pit. 
The trees add to the pyre, the sky is on fire and the atmosphere is moonlit. 
The shadows encroach and the demons approach the uppermost edge of the chasm. 
They cackle with delight, fill the air with fright and ascend from the hollow with enthusiasm.  
The evil is crawling to the edge of the woodland, a night of reckoning is at hand. 
Hatred to empower, souls to devour; utter destruction is what they intend
They move swiftly to the city, they’ll show no pity, they’ve been released to hasten the end.  
Legions of fiends line the border in order to fill every crack, every crevice; all the seams. 
There will be no escape, no redemption, no exception; the assail is taking shape 
They stand at ready, holding steady, waiting for the command to obliterate  
With a wave of its hand, no strategy planned they move forward and annihilate 
Wading through the damage, they plunder and scavenge shredding all that stands in the way
No matter sinner or winner or innocent beginner, all are decedent prey 
Crowds scatter as bodies splatter amongst the screams of agony and dread
Slashing with talons, spilling blood by the gallons, they feast and consume the dead.
The red embers burn, it’s the point of no return and the humanities crumple and collapse. 
The morning sun rises and again reprises as the days continue to elapse.
Unforgiving violence takes to peaceful silence as malevolence departs
There is no disdain; nothing could remain, wiped clean by the blackest of hearts.  

TRICK OR TREAT by Matt Hay

The candy rattling in her bag, she walks from door to door

Her haul tonight has been good, but she is greedy and wants more

Her witches hat starting to droop, her willpower bereft

It is late, she is tired, not many houses left

Her feet are dragging, her breath is cloudy in the cold air

She hears a clatter, is someone there?

Turning around, it is still, quiet, almost eerily so

Her pace quickens, she is no longer slow

Her senses sharpen, her nerves are shot

Who is behind her? what have they got?

Trying to run, her legs are like jelly

Her dinner is churning, in her delicate belly

She stumbles, then falls, can't get back up

She is lying there helpless, like a newborn pup

A shadow looms over, who could it be

She scrunches her eyes, trying to see

A hand emerges, she starts to scream

It is her worst nightmare, no longer a dream

"Hush," says the stranger, "I am here to help.

You are out late, for a young whelp

Let me take you home, back to your bed

I can watch over you, sleep in your shed

I am sure you'd like that, maybe we could cuddle

Let me take care of you, you are in a muddle"

"No," shouts the girl, feeling suddenly brave

"I am fine, not a lost puppy to save"

Rapidly rising, she gets to her feet

Then breaks into a run, back along the street

The stranger follows, keeping pace behind

She is panicking, he's playing with her mind

She can't go much faster, he has not much distance to gain

Her lungs are burning, her joints feel the pain

A crash, a bang, the man is no longer there

What happened to him? She does not care

She reaches her house, enters, then locks the door

She collapses behind it, slumped on the floor

But there stands the man, holding a sack

Dropping it over her, she sees nothing but black

A heavy blow rains upon her head

The darkness envelops her, suddenly she is dead

The stranger stands over her, hearing the final moan

Let this be a lesson, don't trick or treat alone

Blossoms By Nate D. Burleigh

Blossoms always tickle toes.
Tricksters.
I see them … watch them grow.
Rotten tomatoes smash my wall, wrinkled by age.
Dew drips into my pedals.
Walkers by, they seek:
candy, bubble gum, a homemade sweet.
One day they will find.
A clown in paint.
Shriveled black orbs where eyes used to be.
Bifurcated sternum, fractured nose, and fist crunched teeth.
His filth still itches in my nares.
Broken knife and a blood-soaked slipper.
Now only a few more feet.
But they don’t stop.
Don’t hear.
Because my throat he cut,
from ear-to-ear.
Blossoms come, and blossoms go.
One day soon. They’ll all know.

At the Edge of Sanity by Emir Skalonja

I stood amidst the storm like no other,

a whirlwind of souls that beckoned me forth.

In the ravishing darkness, the monsters called

for the sheep to enter.

They were for Belial,

the offerings of flesh, warm and bloody,

tender and succulent, offering a plenty.

The reaping of souls they called it.

I moved closer, against my own will,

for the path behind me closed at the gates

made of bones,

the screaming faces staring back at me.

The sheer force pulled,

my very being, up ahead a tornado of blood,

as if the skies were crying the crimson liquid

for those that perished by the butcher’s blade.

It brought me to madness,

for I had no will of my own, nor the energy

to command my own flesh. I had become…

a simple, pathetic puppet.

And the eyes,

Of the terrible eyes that stared back at me.

Hungry and menacing. The pain hadn’t even begun,

yet their gaze peeled my flesh, piece by piece…

by piece.

Only then did it dawn on me, but the sun I did not see,

that my life was not my own,

and that it belonged here, in this bar-less prison,

from which I could not escape.

And then came the mouth,

and razor-sharp teeth, that sunk into my flesh,

until there was nothing but the morbid blackness

all around.

And yet again, I saw myself staring into the storm…

At the beginning of the edge of my sanity…

Among the Stones By David Blackthorn

All Hallows Eve, an evening of dread

The walls at their thinnest ‘tween living and dead

A Ouija or séance some use to commune

But me, I’ll be digging a hole ‘neath the moon

Halloween night, a journey alone

Lumbering slowly between these gray stones

Staying in shadows and foliage for cover

My mission tonight is to dig up my lover

Our time together, we lived for this day

And memories return as I stand by her grave

Once more I’ll have her the way that we were

And softly my shovel sinks into the dirt

Each time the blade of the shovel goes in

A memory floods through the nerves of my brain

Times that we shared till the moment of death

And the promise I made her at her dying breath

I’d come here to spend Halloween at her side

Every October till the day that I died

The first year I stared at the granite and dust

But realized the head stone would not be enough

An hour of digging and finally I see

The lid of the casket is within my reach

I open the lid and I reach deep inside

I pulled from the darkness my beautiful bride

I realize to some, my story seems sick

I reach in my pocket and pull out lipstick

Applied to her lips is a deep shade of red

It's hard to believe it's three years she’s been dead

We sit in the moonlight, our fingers entwined

No words pass between us, in silence I pine

Soon it is over for one more full year

Counting the days till I can return here

Every October, I unbury her

For a moment I feel the way that we were

Just before dawn I’ll put her back in

But next year I’ll dig up her body again

Until You Wake Again by Christopher Artinian

A cold wind blows through town tonight, stop press too late to warn.
A girl lies dead, the cause a bite, but all will change by dawn.
For bites are funny things my friend, sometimes they smart or burn.
Sometimes they itch, sometimes they weep, but this bite makes you turn.
This moment sees her lifeless corpse turn whiter than the snow.
One more will pass and then a third before it's time to go.
For when she wakes, she will not be the girl that we once knew.
She will be a soul-less ghoul whose eyes are but for you.
She won't see laughter, or your pain. She won't see smiles or tears.
She won't see foggy streets again, or even all your fears.
She won't see eyes, or ears, or nose, or mouth, or lips, or cheeks.
But your neck will light her eyes, for life from that she seeks.
And as her teeth sink through your flesh and blood begins to flow.
The songs of death will start to sing, and in that flash you'll know;
That life is just a fleeting thing and life is full of pain,
And life will always end in death, until you wake again.

The wicked witch by The Knight Poet

There's a witch in my house

Little monsters too

They bitch and complain

As if they lived in a shoe

They get by with murder

While the witch makes her brew

The spider webs are getting out of control

Because the filthy witch

Doesn't know how to use her broom

Trick r' treat the monsters yell

Dressed up like little princesses

If you can't tell

I can't wait till this ends

My head is pounding because

I can't wait till the stupid

Witch is dead...



THE END!


HAPPY HALLOWEEN FRIENDS! 

OUTSTANDING! 

Thank you so much for joining us for our special Halloween Poetry Corner Edition. 
Each poem so unique on it's own and with great Halloween twists.
A huge Thank you goes out to ALL the wonderful poets, who just so happen to be gentlemen, for taking the time out to write and contribute to this poetry challenge.
I know for some this was the first time writing poetry and let me just say "Bravo" to you all. You all stepped up to the challenge and for that I am grateful and so are your new poetry fans. 

Well my lovely and dear friends, this is the last Poetry Corner Challenge for 2017. I hope you've all enjoyed all the fantastic challenges up to this point. I am very excited to bring you all new challenges, new poetry adventures but most of all I look forward to seeing some returning poets along with new poets here to the Poetry Corner with Poison Ivy and Friends. 

Thank you again for all your support.

See you in 2018!!

~POISON IVY 

Poetry Corner with Poison Ivy and Friends: Bedtime Story Poem 2nd Edition

Welcome Back! 

I am so happy you came to join us here at the Poetry Corner with Poison Ivy and Friends. Today, you will be reading the 2nd edition of the Bedtime Story Poems Series. There is a new poet who'll be making a debut along with some of our seasoned Poetry Corner poets. 

POETRY CHALLENGE

Continuing with the Bedtime Story theme, participants were to write a new bedtime story poem of a "Lesson Learned." We've all experienced something or we known someone who's learned a lesson in all kinds of way, so our poets are going to paint you a pictured of such a lesson learned.

Are you ready for some more bedtime story poetry? 

If you answered Yes, sit back, relax and happy reading.


BEDTIME STORY POEM #1

Illustration created by Rachael Derheim


Pieces of Me by Rachael Deheim

As I get ready for bed,
I can't help, but to feel this is just another night of
sleepless dred.

I crawl in bed to pray,
But my mind wanders to a story, 
That leads my heart astray.

I drift away to my past,
And oh so fast.
To a time, before you took my innocence. 

To a time, when I believed true love exist.

And my esteem,
Flowed through me,
Like a mighty stream.

My life was a wonderous dream.

I could look at myself,
And I could see my beauty.

It was as if I, 
Was a masterpiece.

So very colorful,
I was like the Golden Archangel. 

Then along you came, 
And set my heart aflame.

But instead of love being exemplifying, 
It was agonizing. 

Burning abrasions on my soul. 
You enslaved me,
with your aggressive control.

And through your affliction,
I gave you all of my affection. 

But, oh, how it took it's toll.

Because like old art,
I became fragile, 
And I began to fall apart.

I started losing pieces of me,
And seeing differences.

You were my Zeus, 
In an enraged sea,
And all I wanted ,
was for you to 
seduce,
Me.

Through your obtuse abuse, 
You unknowingly,
tied my noose.

My broken and fallen pieces were fading,
I felt inside,
I was dying.

The bruises and gashes you left on me,
Were deeper than my flesh,
And we're as dark as coal,
on a miner's vest. 

I stared at my reflection, for days in the mirror,
And all I felt was inferior. 

Your broken promises, 
Were  the art,
To my token of damages. 

In time,
As if it was a role for you to play,
You became a troll,
And hit me again.

Once, Twice, Thrice...

The pain was sharp,
Like that of a carnal cannibal, 
Feeding on what was left of my heart.

Feeding as if it was,
Sweet filled puzzle pieces,
That you didn't want me to put back together. 

Through tear filled eyes, 
I begged,
For it all to end.
For I was,
Too tired to make 
a mend.

But, in my moment of despair,
I suddenly became aware, 
That I had an extreme strength inside of me. 
And it was, my time to blissfully redeem.

So, in that moment, 
I became tough.
Because I decided,
I had had enough.

And the broken pieces of me, 
became so colorful and artful.
I began to see myself,
And truly admire,
Each lively piece as I bonded them adequately back together with love.

And for the first time since this agony,
I saw my beauty,
My art, 
My colors, 
My worth, 
My strength, 
My purpose.
I saw me!


That's when I truly understood the beauty of the pieces of me!!



BEDTIME STORY POEM #2


“Little Miss” by Jesse Batista 

So nice to all, this little Miss
Nice to their face but, to their back a hiss
Talked the game and made the plays
Happiness would last but a short few days
Back to the turmoil and certain lies
Back to the treachery and welcoming disguise 
Back to the wallets and the needless desires
Back to all the demands of what she requires
All done with a smile and a cordial wink
Little did she know she’d be brought to the brink
The mask removed and the truth exposed
One by one the doors got closed
 An angry slam here and a loud crash there
She was left in emptiness, left to only stare
Left alone by her own misdeeds 
The light has left, torment proceeds 
Her surroundings now barren and depressingly stark
You are who you are when you’re alone in the dark.




BEDTIME STORY POEM #3

Life Long by Sebastian Andrews

The wait for revenge has been life long

Revenge To someone who done him wrong

Impatiently waiting as the day Presents

Remembering that fateful day’s events

Peeking in windows and Sneaking around 

Remaining quiet and trying not to be found

Many told him it was so long ago

Move on forward and let it go

Driven by hate and wild desire

His heart was empty and his soul on fire

Here and now the moment has come

The clocked stop ticking, the chord was strung

With flick and jab the deed was done

A feeling of justice felt he had won

Out the window appeared two little eyes

Eyes that saw him and a little boy cries

A boy that now seeks revenge 

After a lifelong torment, he will avenge.

BEDTIME STORY POEM #4


LIVED AND LEARNED by Lozt Poet 

As I lay me down to sleep

I lay in darkness as I begin to slumber deep.

Thoughts swirl and fill my head,

Things I’ve done and things I’ve said.

I think back on what I’ve been through,

I try to think of the good things, but only the bad comes through.

My heart beats fast as memories come rushing back like a furious flood,

The darkness swallows me and I find myself drenched in blood.

I look around searching for a friend or a hand to hold,

But alas I am left to my own device, alone and cold.

I begin to question why there is nobody to be found,

But before I finish the question the answers abound.

It was because of the way I have acted towards those I held near,

Those who treated me kind and in times of distress lent me their ear.

I had nobody to blame for being alone wallowing in my own demise,

By the way I treated those who called me friend, this ending for me was no surprise.

I looked around and knew then that I had to make a choice,

I had to break free of this curse I had cast on myself through my actions and my voice.

I picked myself off the ground and found a pool where I could cleanse my aura and cleanse my soul,

I made a choice to begin my journey anew and try to make myself complete and whole.

I looked back at the people whose life I have filled with pain,

I promised myself that although I might not be able to take it away I would never do it to anyone ever again.

I won’t ask for forgiveness because it is something I believe haven’t earned,


But I promise that as I look back at that part of my life that I have lived, my lesson has been learned.


THE END


OUTSTANDING!! 

As I receieved each submission for this challenge, I was left speechless. Each poet did a phenomenal job, as they always do. As I read through these bedtime story poems, I am still left no words. That is a very good thing. 

Thank you readers for joining us again. I do hope you enjoyed all the bedtime story poems just as much as I did. 

Thank you poets for blowing us all away with these unique "Lessons Learned" experiences. It's always a pleasure to see your work. 
Keep writing and expressing yourself to the world. 

Kindly leave a comment below. We enjoy reading your comments and hearing what you think about the poetry we've shared with you. Thanks again!

Poetry Corner with Poison Ivy and Friends: Bedtime Story Poems 1st Edition

Welcome!

Thank you one and all for joining us here at the Poetry Corner with Poison and Friends. Since our last gathering, our poets have been hard at work creating such wonderful poetry for everyone. I hope all enjoy the dreamiest of all treasts you're about to be given.


POETRY CHALLENGE

Who loves bedtime stories? I hope you responded with "I do" or "Me". Well this was definitely a challenge no one expected.
Participating poets were challeged to write a bedtime story poem with suspense. What you're about to read will knock your socks off . The poets were also given the opportunity to submit pictures to go along with their poems.


Happy Reading!!!  

BEDTIME STORY POEM #1

Illustration #1 created by Jesse Batista 

The Chronicle of Paragon by Jesse Batista

Here now comes the chronicle of an armored dragon, fire breathing monster by the name of Paragon. He dwells deep in the ruins, of the city of Argoss.  A metropolis once magnificent, now riddled with loss. It was a time of the ancient; of castles, moats and the shire. All destroyed by greed and hate and then by dragons fire. Across bountiful tables, stories of glory were told. Rooms filled to the brim with rubies, silver and gold. The blessed king was to rule, but not with conceit. Rejoice in the envy but, be ever so discreet. Be giving, be kind, be generous, pay mind. Stick with the deal or be destroyed he would find. A victory feast was the theme of the night, party and drink with merriment and delight.  A dreadful decision was made in haste and now the city lies in waste. The wizard who bestowed the king such grace was defiled by the same and given chase.  As a penniless peasant the wizard was cloaked to see if the king could be easily provoked. A simple request for a gift denied; a gift of food for his soon to be bride. The wizards was scoffed at and called a fool, chased from the lands with words of ridicule.   The king, unknowingly, brought his kingdom such plight. Paragon the Dragon would soon take flight.

The wizard now brought to the final decision, he calls upon his beast and there will be no revision. With flick of the wrist and an incantation, Paragon emerges without hesitation. He rears his head and smoke pours from his brim. The sight of what’s to come will be all too grim.  The creature roars and swiftly takes to the sky. He screeches a sharp, deafening war cry.  With his wings spread, he glides through the darkness of night. He will assuredly reach the kingdom before the first light. As it was said, before dawns approach, paragon arrived, to the limits he encroached. While most of the populace was still in beds dreaming, those who were awake, woke them with their screaming. Paragon makes his first descent, time to show that king exactly what was meant.  He draws in a breath and with all his might, he releases a fireball and the courtyard does ignite. The fire spreads wildly, climbing the walls, catching the hay and expanding down the halls. A second assault to the aft towers, a third and a fourth and it continued for hours.  Not a soul standing after the unexpected incursion. None accept the king whose empire is scattered, whose life’s in dispersion. He kneels among the hot burning embers, only now the agreement the king remembers.

The city now in rubble and abandoned for years. Rumors of dragons bring apprehensions and fears. There are tales of gold and treasures so splendid, there’s boasts that the dragon should be beheaded. Retake the city and claim what’s theirs! Shout the towns folk with hate and without any cares. Send a mighty warrior to do the deed, but, they think only of themselves and are driven by greed. A warrior does appear from the angry hoard, baring a shield and a gladius sword. He accepts the challenge and takes to the trek with thoughts of victory and a golden paycheck.  To the city the warrior does arrive, to the dilapidated castle is where he must strive. Buried beneath the rubble is Paragon’s lair, The treasure awaits him somewhere in there. Scaling the rocks and crossing the moat. The air grows thick and coarse in his throat. As he continues his journey, it gets black as coal, he finds an opening and climbs in the hole. He surfaces to a cavernous den, the rocks move under him time and again. A system put intentionally in place for the wizard knew this day he would eventually face.  The warrior stumbles and noisily falls, it echos in the silence and Pargaon it calls. Awaken from slumber Paragon looks his way, the warrior draws his sword looking to slay. The warrior swipes and lunges and slashes, Paragon hurls fire that burns everything to ashes. While battle ensues, it’s obvious that the warrior was bound to lose. The warrior fled with life intact, his shield melted and his spirit cracked. The wizard shook his head and knew from the start, the way to beat Paragon is not to outsmart. Be generous of giving and compassionate of heart.

Illustration #2 created by Jesse Batista 

BEDTIME STORY POEM #2

GOODNIGHT, SLEEP TIGHT

by Lozt Poet 

As the sun sets in the western sky,

the time draws near to say good-bye.

The time is coming for you to dream,

And remember that in those visions things aren’t often as they seem.

At first you will hear a lullaby,

Followed by a visit from all your friends who live nearby.

You’ll see Freddy the wonder-fish,

He’ll make you laugh as he skips from his bowl to a dish.

Then there comes Max the mixed-up dog,

 He’s always acting silly and will jump like a frog.

The third in line is Tom the cat,

Each time he shows up it’s with a different hat.

And last but in no way least,

Is your best friend in the world, the one you call Beast.

They will all show up and whisk you away,

Take you to dreamland where all night you will laugh and play.

Be warned though if you pass up the chance to have some fun,

All the goodness and light will be undone.

You’ll be plunged into a dark and desolate place,

One filled with monsters and demons will give chase.

They can see and smell your fear,

Then track you down as they whoop and cheer.

You’ll begin to run and try to escape throughout the night,

Believe me when I say it won’t be an easy fight.

There is no place that you can hide,

Those monsters and demons will be nipping t your heel with every stride.

Just when you think it is safe to stop and get some rest,

An eerie feeling will come over you and your heart will pound loudly in your chest.

Your feet will move as fast as they can,

But you will still feel the cold grab of their hand.

They will pull and pull and drag you back,

You will star sliding towards the beasts dressed in black.

The last thing you will see as chills run across your body are blood-shot eyes,

Then drenched in a cold sweat you quickly rise.

Looking around you realize it was just a dream as you sit in your bed,

The monsters weren’t there, it was all in your head.

So, with a smile you lay back down and say goodbye and sleep tight at half past ten,

Unaware that the monsters are anxious and eager for you to visit again.      

BEDTIME STORY POEM #3

Illustration created by Dara Gossamer Wings

Heart & Soul,  Wild & Bold by Dara Gossamer Wings

There once was a boy everyone knew

Through the woods and o’er the brambles he ran askew

His parents desperately attempted to rein him in

Without a single stroke of luck, for he ran like the wind

The stories they told trying to frighten him so

 He’d stop running amuck into to the forest you know

They explained that upon reaching a certain age to enter the forest so dark

He would one unfortunate day realize a life so stark

On the day of turning without a thought for the danger that loomed 

Joyfully… off to the dark forest he zoomed

He never believed the stories he was told

For his heart was wild and his soul was bold

Though every word spoken was filled with truth, though bitterly wry

His parents that day most chagrined, woefully they did cry

For in the dark came the beasts of the omnipotent night

They’d been watching, waiting, longing for the foolish boy knowing his future plight

The stories given were indeed of the most horrific sort

Those of demons, devils and witches always seeking to cohort

The things they did to this boy were deranged and full of an unthinkable pain

The worst part was, they didn’t kill him…no, they left him mad, completely insane

Casting him from the forest back to the world

Leaving him filled with their seeds of rage to one day be unfurled

Upon the birth of his children’s children, wrath released from its cage

That’s when the evil dawns its inescapable rage

Whence the elders are too old to change the course of time and events of the new life 

That’s when they come to understand the unleashed strife

Forever binding the boy of old to the beasts of which he was told

Knowing not what is afoot until well past the time for change

Leaving him to live in horror of the ones he loves, completely deranged

The moral goes something like this…

They tell you the stories dreadful and bold

That you may take your son’s sons and daughter’s daughters having them to hold

So every night they may lay you in your bed 

With no fear, with no dread

Knowing in their heart you’ll know a life of bliss

With each and every goodnight kiss

                                       

THE END

BRAVO!! 

I don't know about you but I am holding on to my blanket alittle tighter when bedtime comes around. These bedtime story poems were magnificent. Poets you've all out done yourself once again. Such talented people we have here. Thank you for dedication to writing such great poetry and for creating the vibrant illustrations to go with them. 

Thank you returning and new friends for joining us today. I really do hope you enjoyed these bedtime story poem because this was just the beginning. There will be 2 more bedtime story poem editions coming your way. Stay tuned!! 

If you'd ever like to participate in one of the poetry challenges, please email me, Ivy Valori, at poisonivysnbv@gmail.com. Everyone is welcome and no writing experience is needed. Let's just have some fun. 

Please feel free to comment below about this edition of the Poetry Corner. We would like to hear what your thoughts. 

See you next time.