Halloween -Vampire poem.

In the still of the night Breathless, pounding heart;
How close will he come The deed to be done?

Shivering, stilled in the

Clouds skittering past a silver moon;

A hoot, a toot, a flap of wings Who
is it who wears glittering rings?

A snowy owl, swooping past; No moon to light his path

Hear footsteps on flagstones; As moonbeams dance
on gravestones!

Shadows darting here and there Please, please, don't get tangled
in my hair

See his breath now on frosting air Sparkle in eyes, scintillating

He has but a short while, to quaff from the longed for vile

Soon to be heard a sprightly lark; He must then dash away to the dark

The kiss,
the hunger, the hold; No escape from one so bold

Agony and ecstasy of ill-timed
bliss; Power of attraction no dismiss

He always returns, driven by lust; Life's potent wine the inner must

A wanton smile, His token of trust and guile; But, how much, how much, will he want of the blooded nile?

It is the moment it is the time
The crossing of ever lasting line;

No escape from the dream; See the mystical catlike gleam

Too late, too late; He's opened his blood-lined cape;

Oh Mystical phantom of sensual nights Drifting, drifting in ecstasy

This is the way, the way it was meant to be!

copyright Francine Howarth.