Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer Poet Rubaiyat

The Hellhound

The great dog down the street,
Hellhound I would hate to meet,
With its coat of brown and black,
Huge teeth and big clawed feet.

Dark growl devilishly deep,
Makes my skin shiver and creep,
Eyes alight with evil glow,
Body crouched ready to leap.

It escaped its yard one day,
Lurked baleful in my driveway,
Stood and would not go home,
So inside I had to pray.

Now I think I hear the howl,
Of the Hellhound so foul,
Over the air every night, 
He raises his mighty jowl.

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