Revenge – This Jolly Beggar

Dead Rights

The sun had taken flight with midnight near
The killer stops uncertainly, afraid,
Behind a sound he hears, sinister, clear,
A hollow breathing, ice-cold hand now laid
Upon his shoulder, grips; he springs away,
As if the fiends of hell were at his heels,
But still pursued, his face with terror, gray.
At last he turns, with courage bold, then squeals
As dead Lucille peals, “Now see how it feels!”

Well, Halloween’s just around the corner isn’t it? 🎃👻 Update: And right on cue, I’m number 13 on Mr. Linky! Haha.

Laura at dVerse's MTB: "Since today is the 9th of the 9th month it is fitting for that numeral to inform today’s poetry form –  so let’s meet The Novelinee!. . . Yes, it’s a nine line stanza poem overlaid with this rhyme sequence:
a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d" also written in iambic pentameter.

Poetic Justice

Fiction; word count: 100
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields' Friday Fictioneers
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POETIC JUSTICE

“Hold on,” said Ben who had just gotten dumped by the barmaid, “I feel a limerick coming on.”
“Is it painful?” asked cheeky Dotty McDonald.
“Just five lines in anapestic.”
“Painful, then. Let’s have it.”

There once was a barmaid who never
Spared a kind word for this feller
While she binged on the prunes
He bought her from Koon’s
He absconded with her toilet paper.

“A revenge poem. I like that,” Dotty hooted. “Is it true?”
“Clever devil. It took some planning,” his buddy John remarked.
“There’s no going back after that,” Ben admitted. “Another romance down the toilet.”

Continue reading “Poetic Justice”