Haunted
The smell of cherries, stem and all, sours the quiescence of the room.
An ethereal tongue midair, lilting with laughter, daunting and petty.
Crushed, he turns the opposite of robust red - this poisonous groom,
Realizing he’s released the bloodroot from the bottomless pit of hell.
Tortured for his life’s eternity, he will remain under her vengeful spell.
With wickedness of a serpent-bride, venom in her veins - a pitiless betty.
The softness of her skin, golden wheat hair, rich and honey sweet.
A treasure he’d wear for a while, whilst a murderous plot he’d kindle.
He’d not counted on this country mouse developing skills to cheat.
Thus he plotted a slow and painful death with plenipotentiary pain.
His Eve, he’d drive her body with arsenic, until she’d go insane.
~ Nettles of incremental hours, the widower’s squeals ne’er dwindle. ~
3/28/2018
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time 1 Contest
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