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The Nightmare Man leapt away with the morning wind, a wailing child tucked beneath His spidery arm. Cackler-Dream, how you slobber sweet over your succulent prize's innocence, her mortal dangling charms. In the dim grey of light, I hear an echoing phantom laughter as it ripples a wide swath across the summerlake. Carrying waves of last eve's darkness. His gnarled whisper-fingers grasp at dawn's dewy wake. The Nightmare Man so soon fast-fading in the ashen morn's fragile light. As now He tries vainly to vandal what He may never-keep: Sweet Beauty, Peace and Small Innocence of Breathing Life. (Though He may desire to gobble-grasp with all His burning-might.) With one final wheezing rasp His daunted voice cries out snarling, breaking, then to weep. Alas, the Nightmare Man dissolves to silvery dust which dutiful Daylight Faeries gather up to sweep. And when the wee child resumes her untroubled rest, she turns onto her resilient side, she tumbles back gently into the morn's second mumble-sleep. COPYRIGHT June 18 2015/ at 2:50 pm All Rights Are Reserved By This Author Meloo./Melissa A Howells Straight From Her Tilt-a-World All Ideas/Rants/Poetry/Prose are the Explicit Legal Property of This Writer June 30, 2015 re-edited. 4:46 re-edited again July 1, 2015 Thank you kindly for reading.... Note...there are invented words in this poem. They are intentional I do a lot of word inventing. Deliberate compound words made and words hyphenated. I believe in breaking rules and making my own. Footnote: It was not until recently, that is the Modern Age that people slept through the entire night. With the advent of the Iron Horse and the Industrial Revolution our sleep habits change. Before people woke in the middle of the night to get things done and then woke again in the morning to start their day. Life was just more productive that way. That was the natural rhythm of life. LEGAL COPYRIGHT TO THIS WORK/THIS SITE TITLE BY THIS AUTHOR Vote for this poem |
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