The Banshee waits in the gloom and mist,
Waiting to give a Laddie or Lassie death's final kiss.
Her cold body craves warmth, her blue lips craves life's sweet taste,
No one will give her welcome, she is feared and hated by the human race.
Her flowing, black hair is a long, wild tangled mane,
Her eyes glow bright yellow, making her look quite insane.
She dances alone among graves and tombstones,
Where those she has kissed, now make their homes.
Her death call is a chilling screech,
No one is safe from her reach.
So at midnight, while alone in the safety of your bed,
Cover your ears against her call, or you will end up dead!
Your images were so well painted I could just see her tangled hair dancing among the graves. This is kind of like the scary stories my grandma used to tell us. We were spellbound listening to her and never could get enough of her storytelling.
Hey! Hey! Hey! If your Banshee comes on anything like the vixen in your poem "Aphrodisiac," then I can't think of a better way to go and have my tool "end up dead."
I see this piece was posted about a week following Halloween. Now, I can't wait to see what gift you have for us around Christmas.
SC,
When I was growing up this was a subject familiar to me and so today reading your work it has a fine resonance, I'm hearing history over. By the way, the Irish believed then, fifty years ago - today they seem to believe little or nothing - that the banshee cried at the death of certain people only, not everyone, people from ancient families. Thank you for taking me back, it was splendid.
John
I am there, go seventeen tombstones forward five tomstones to the left and you will see me sitting under the anfel with only one arm.
You can call all you want, but will you answer my call?
Begeebee's that's it, I thought all the fright was over but no now I lookin for Banchees. Holy Cow SC, I only have one little heart and it's goin nuts right now. You are something. Love and hugs, Bonnie
You must be describing my picture. lol. In all seriousness, great imagery and I only wish Hillary was on the ballot today, here. Love the Celtic music. But the woman is a little frightening. Great write. Liz
Wow and on election day, how fitting LOL
Ah well...It's like the sirens eh? Cover my ears
or I might hears... I know I took your typo
and turned it into a lame joke...Geez Sorry ;)
It is five years since Delta Force stopped a deadly missile attack in the Middle East. Now team leader Jason Patrick is living a quieter life in North Carolina with his family, stationed at Fort Bragg.
But that is about to change when a new,
An alcoholic, miserly attorney reluctantly defends a black man from a false resisting arrest charge. He then discovers damaging information against the cops and two cronies, and embarks on a battle to keep himself and his client alive.
It takes you to a dark place in the company of two of New York's finest detectives as they go the extra mile to bring a sadistic serial killer to justice.
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"When Irish eyes aren't smilin' . . . " Fantastic my dear!!
Hugs,
Lance
I see this piece was posted about a week following Halloween. Now, I can't wait to see what gift you have for us around Christmas.
Waiting with heavy breath.
Richard
hugs
Kathy
When I was growing up this was a subject familiar to me and so today reading your work it has a fine resonance, I'm hearing history over. By the way, the Irish believed then, fifty years ago - today they seem to believe little or nothing - that the banshee cried at the death of certain people only, not everyone, people from ancient families. Thank you for taking me back, it was splendid.
John
You can call all you want, but will you answer my call?
Georg
Fee
Be always safe,
Karen
Ah well...It's like the sirens eh? Cover my ears
or I might hears... I know I took your typo
and turned it into a lame joke...Geez Sorry ;)