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Blood Poem (Sanguine)


what does it matter


abandoned open book and

this blood stains its page


on the Harvester's moon

my tongue flicks the corners of My mouth

spittle fills It with saliva


ah yes

hunger for life

a taste of salted sweet blood

to make one swoon


beware the wide golden orb

it will speak to you

beware the reaching shadows

they will beckon with long feathery fingers



beware here, this splattered page

and what is left behind to describe

not little more than spatter

but what was life


here I left

My blood poem.




experimental poem
written on the night of a Harvest moon in the dark outside
back in September 2016/
copyright October 2, 2016\
All Legal Copyrights For this Work/ This Site Title
Are Reserved by His Author/Writer
Melissa A Howells/Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World/
legally copyright site title.

Happy Halloween





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