The Shriek
It was time to come in from the cold
I am no longer young, I am old
My legs long and hairy
They creak when I walk
Once the talk of the town
But they now let me down
So I hide in the corner and nod off to sleep
When all of a sudden I hear a loud shriek
What’s all that commotion
Well I don’t have a notion
Through sleepy blue eyes
I take a quick peep
There’s a man with a broom head
Getting too close for comfort
His face is so red, such a gigantic head
With the broom head he pokes
so I freeze and play dead
Then he turns to the Shriek and scratches his head
So deciding to move to a place more discreet
But confused lose my sense of direction
My legs they collapse I am feeling quite weak
Running over her legs
Running over her feet
I panic running over the Shriek
Consumed with fright she went out like a light
As she crashed to the floor in a heap
I was so out of breath
for she’d crushed me to death
So beware all Arachnids
steer clear of the Shriek...
Written 26th November 2018
Contest Strand Choice O
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st Place
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
