THE NIGHTLY RITUAL

THE NIGHTLY RITUAL

A Poem by andrew mitchell

There's a murmur at the house
Up there on the hill
And a creaking of the stairs;
The nights are never still.
I think something is moving;
There's a chill in the air
The ordeal is unsettling
As there isn't anybody there.
But something's in the darkness,
A phantom on the stairs
Or are shadows forming
As the ghostly moon stares?
Then echoes break the silence,
The mantle clock starts to chime.
The sun is on the horizon,
As the haunting now subsides
Only to return.....
                    ......that very same time.
 

© 2015 andrew mitchell


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I like the poem. Left me the want to know more. You open the door to question and mystery in the poem. Would be a good lead for tale of mystery. Thank you for the excellent poetry.
Coyote

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on March 6, 2015
Last Updated on March 6, 2015

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..

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