Mimi-Mona Poetry: A Tale for Halloween

©A Tale for Halloween

Mimi Wolske

October 2010

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

I

Who Is This Child?

Wind moans; eagles scream

Trees bark and crawlies dream

The moon laughs as other worldleys prowl

Coyotes listen as wolves howl

Human souls, deer, and rabbits all run

The sun hides from midnight's shun

Gaps close and nightmares grow

Shadows flock to watch the show

And then, from the night--a silhouette's empty eyes--a golden-haired child! Noise stops and frolickers mild

Mystery settles, a fog in the air

The surplus of joy is now hardly there

The air stills--stops every breeze

Animals, wind, and shadows all freeze

Who is this girl, this delicate child with eyes devoid, so hauntingly wild?

And why is she here, roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of fright? this girl, this child,

Should be home and in bed

Innocent tears should stain her eyes red

She should flee from the trees and glowing eyes

She should dart and dash from the critters' loud cries

But she stands like an omen, silent and tall

And the trees hardly move--not a leaf dares to fall

All is silent and still, not a flicker of life

Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife

Then a soft little noise sifts through the air

It chills the mood by just being there

And a child's innocent giggle turns to a laugh—

It grows to a scream and that's only half!

The sun hits the dark, an explosion of light

And a delicate child runs out of sight,

A grayish-faced child with eyes of the night;

She darts and she dashes, devoid of all fright.

II

The Child Grows 

Sea sobs, ululates

Rocks groan as a fish stagnates

Ebon clouds gather to prepare for night

While bird and beast cowl with affright

Mortal hearts pounding with fainting spirits

Far away from Death’s caskets

Gaps open terrifying

The penumbra converging

Suddenly she’s seen--the silhouette with eyes of void—

Golden-haired child no longer, a pale covering—sarcoid

Hair like a mystery down her spine

She gazes pass nonexistent moon shine

The air swirls—creates a breeze

Animals, wind, and shadows all freeze

Who is this young woman, this fragile girl who grows with the night, who’s no longer a child?

And what’s that with her, sitting the night without even a flitter or shiver of fright? Is this some wiled,

Some trick or perhaps ruse?

Culpable partner? And what will effuse?

She remains, staring at the cold sea

She should depart, appear to be more chastely

But she sits and what is it she will presage?

Who will understand her or her devil’s language?

All is silent and still, not a flicker of life

Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife

Then a soft little noise sifts through the air

It chills the mood by just being there

A woman's amiable laugh that turns to weeping—

It grows to a cry; what’s she reaping!?

The moon strikes the clouds, an expression of light

And the fragile young girl vanishes from sight,

A grayish-faced woman with eyes of night;

She is coming for you at half past twilight.

III

Don’t Look 

Drooly, gooly sounds

The antithesis confounds

Pounding shapes louder than eternal dark

Under the dead moon disembark

Sinister beings and dripping ghouls

Blanketed with jewels

From a different chamber

Seeking those who dare wander

Is it a wonder, is it a surprise

That against the malformed ebony is where she lies

This child, girl, woman with devoid eyes

Skin so pale and hair so dark—beware,

Beware—don’t look lest your vision she impair

Ominous trouble, threatening evil, presaging menace, from a distance her beauty belies

The mesmerizing, hypnotizing attraction that holds one’s interest on her fateful disguise

When cast under her spell

You forget to look under your bed…hell

Is the home to her and her inky kind

And she’s waiting for you if you’re inclined

Around the corner, behind the skinned tree

Sinister beings and dripping ghouls wait patiently

All is silent and still, not a flicker of life

Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife

Then a soft little noise sifts through the air

It chills the mood by just being there

A child’s giggle, a woman’s laugh—it’s you she seeks

Chills spill down your spine; laugh transforms to shrieks

A deeper black dots the sky, they fly to her side

They’re coming for you…it’s half past evening tide

Run! Run fast as you dare into the lightless

Depths of disparaging gloom; there’s no success

IV

Xenobia Beasts through the Umbra Come

Xenobia beasts

Through the umbra come, and priests,

Untenable souls, make the ravens cringe

Bloodless, undead monsters impinge

On the living—they’re not so choosey—

Doomed to wander endlessly

Hideous solanine lives

Darker is she who deprives

Down by the salley sanguinaria

The pallor’s gone from the living dead with no pneuma

Behind the veil of time she watches

And any who dares to look at her blanches

With terror and will be in need of a requiem

Close your eyes tight, dare you not to gaze upon her, the aging child, girl, woman who needs your lifeblood

No longer a child, departed is the being sublime, the woman who follows is one who is rotted

Touched by her boney hand

Your life will be hers just as she had planned

Crawl under floorboards, hide in the attic

Run little one, you must not be frantic

Obsessive devotion in its black sight

Her raven will find you before midnight

When all is silent and still, not a flicker of life,

Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife

Then a horrible noise cuts through the air

It chills the mood by just being there

It’s no longer a child’s game, she’s come for you

Hold your breath, hide your face, she doth pursue

The empty clock beats faster than your heartbeat

You waited too long, no time left to retreat

She’s taken your father and your dear, sweet mum

Hear how she calls you? Hear her necro-hum?

V

Across the Edge of Unmarked Time 

A grave in the blackness

She’s left feeling anxious

With nothing only scaly bones under

The earth, whispery voice a blur

Not quite heard; indistinct from night

And hiding from the daylight

The sun begins to smile

Shadows fade, they’ve lost their wile

And then, feigning night—a silhouette's empty eyes—the woman becomes child!

Ghoulies’ voices once reviled

Are quiet once again; fog flees the air

Still the surplus of joy is hardly there

She’s left behind sadness and death

She inhales once more her last breath

This woman, this girl, now a child returns to inner depths for another year

You know why she was here roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of fright, so do not jeer

The penumbra departs

But something still exists, perverse it thwarts

Passing across the edge of unmarked time

When foul monsters return once more to begrime

And she’ll stand like an omen, silent and tall

And trees will hardly move—leaves will not dare to fall

All will be silent, still without a flicker of life

Vacant eyes will slice the peace sharp as a knife

And a soft little noise will sift through air

To chill the mood by just being there

And you, my innocent little one, have not escaped

The things in the night have merely reshaped

The grayish-faced child with eyes of the night

Who darts and who dashes, devoid of all fright,

Has not departed, she’s not through

Be afraid! Next year she’s coming for YOU!