Silent Screech

Sheltered in shadows till light disappeared,

Urged into night with a screech,

Hung by my feet till wings found release,

Shackled by lack of sight, leeched

Into the gloaming, soft darknes held dear,

Strident but silent my speech,

Seeking an echo to steer my path clear,

All vision just out of my reach.

Flitted and flirted with posturing objects,

Clamoured in darkness with sound,

Wilderness wild in every aspect,

Not a whisper of you to be found,

Back to my haven, my roost for the day,

Hoisted by end to my flight,

Each night that encroaches I have my say,

Hidden but hellbent on fight.

Bats in the belfry, bats in the barn,

Bats that seek out your source,

Pipistrelles, vampires, creatures with fangs,

Bloodthirsty for want of discourse.

I’ve tasted your scent and it soars my desire,

Nothing but you will suffice,

Starved I will be till I find you again,

Ambition cannot think twice.

Waiting in wings, in towers, your roof,

Scratching till day turns to night,

Champing at bit till one found aloof,

Neck raised to the stars, what a sight! 

Bounty is mine when wings find their tips,

When fangs in my face thirst, it’s true,

Seeping through blackness, I’m whetting my lips

Lusting for sacrifice. You.

Masked And Dangerous

Right, having another bash at the mask shenanigans. While sitting in sunshine is far removed from the following it seems helpful in mashing the brain a bit.

Onwards by carriage, in cabin alone, pulled

by four horses, unknown maiden was borne,

masked and unseen, so she thought, as she rode,

unheeding of eyes trained on traversed road.

Forested hideout masked predator there,

man of some mystery, hidden in lair,

lying in wait for rich treasure to claim,

stand and deliver, his call, with no name.

Rode he to hounds in the day but by night,

donned cloak and pistol, visage kept from sight,

surprising all journeys along forest path, 

tonight, no exception, ever ready to grasp

bejewelled and bedazzled from carriages fine,

heard wheels approaching, areckoned apt time.

Midnight it was as he forced to a stop

carriage before him, at last strike of bell clock,

beckoned insider to part with her gems,

waved pistol wildly, guarantee of amens,

when out from the carriage, from cabin enclosed,

stepped lady lightly, more pale than white rose

with lips of rich red, aplumped they of blood,

sparkled of eyes where ruby did flood,

dazzling more brightly than riches he sought,

intentions unravelled, his plan came to naught.

Caught on the highway, predation to prey,

bit down she first then robbed as he swayed,

devoided of treasure, blood soaked, fell to ground,

while black plumed, her stallions, urged homeward bound,

back to her layer, her coffin in keep,

castle of masks, batted eyes, six feet deep.

Tattooed the hooves, same to face from her bust

suffused now with pigment of redded blood lust.

Beware the highway, deliver if asked

though man, masked for moment, lies dead to the task

erred in the path of the woman he chose,

asleep till tomorrow, masked once more as pale rose.

Nope, so no romance here either, per se. Right, this is getting beyond the pale, so to speak. I can’t write a love poem around masks? What gives? Masked encounters bring out the deadly in me? Who knows. But this was fun. I think I may have cackled at the end. Sitting in the sunshine cackling.

Maybe third time will be the charm. I’m not giving in. In fact, I’m really enjoying finding out where masks take me. Masks are fun. Like acting. Only better. No stage fright.

Seriously (or not so seriously!) link in in comments so I can enjoy your masked adventures. Mark has sent in one that I’ll post to this here blog after I’ve stopped writing today. Umm, might be late, Mark. 😉