Short Decanter Poems

I have a soft spot
For my special decanter
Halloween teapot
Where I create my hot tea
And my great hot chocolate

Russell Sivey...

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sticky warm sanguine blood
reposing in Dracula’s crystal decanter
his bride terrified to ask whose it is
her parents have been missing for a week
his black wolf howls his displeasure when she gets close to the table
she scurries away, but not before seeing two black spiders
he always promised to transmogrify them into creatures
if they did not stop interfering
she goes to bed that night with a sad heart...

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