How sweet to stretch out
In the clear light
Of the full moon:
So soon the hair grows
And subtly sprouts
From pallid palms and tawny toes
And then, the sudden change
As bones and skin do rearrange.
Small lambs, look round about
No need to bleat, you may not shout
Let me rend each living throat
Soon silver slavers must anoint
The warmth of wool, let teeth disjoint
In crackling crunch, my lunar lunch:
For thus I am, miswrought and made
Why may I not by day parade?
Let me forget nocturnal sin
Open your hearts
And
Let
Me
In.
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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HHHHHHOOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!
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I have always enjoyed lying naked in the moonshine. Preferably with a naked nymphomaniac under me. Or on top. Or even more preferable: one on top and one underneath.
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No revision necessary, Monseiur Loup-garou - a lyrical and lycanthropic lay which had me howling in harmony!
Nice one,
Bill
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Oh my - this is rather scary - adore the last six lines. So different to most of the things you write. I am intrigued and impressed by turns. I can picture 'you' prowling the glens after dark to wreak 'your' havoc....... The first three lines are strangely erotic. Loved it. Thank you. Debs
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Chilling
"Open your hearts",
hate the sin but love the sinner,
and join the werewolf at his dinner.
I love it.
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Thanks Margaret. These werewolves need our support! I blame an excess of garlic for this one. Cheers. K.
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Superb
A very unique write, indeed. You have me puzzeled, a wee bit, as to your meaning in this poem> Would you shine some light upon it please.
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Och, sometimes the words just come into my head.
I'm glad that you liked it, but light? None is shed.
Best Wishes.
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