Poem -
Sickle Moon
Steely sickle hung a moon,
Ornate lambent zombie hewn
Mayhem betwixt skeletal trees
Mistral blist on Anemoi breeze
Jaundice, orbis eyes aglow
Atop bough, murder of crow
Nebulous fog creeps afoot
Crickets chant βneath soot
Ides of March blustery blow
Shadows fornicate virginal snow
Arctic for neither man nor beast
Ravenous for fodder feast
Grim bears famished grin
Cordially invites kinsfolk in
Frigid keen scythe cast
Mortal frailty shanβt last
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Comments
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Thank you kindly JillΒ
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Wow ?
Thank you kindly PratibhaΒ
This sounds very much like a Halloween poem. It reminds of the film The Mist. I think Stephen King wrote the book.
Very much enjoyedΒ - Syd xoΒ
Thank you kindly Syd. I wrote this poem in the middle of a cold dark cemetery last year. With just a sliver of a moon ? above the treetops . Seemed fitting at the time
I have no words, your vocabulary knows no boundsΒ
Either does yours my friend thank you for stopping by to read