Poetry ~ Omens

black birds flying from left to right
salt over your shoulder as the clock strikes midnight

blue bottle trees keep the haints at bay
boo hags on the bedpost suck your breath away 

black cats lurking to cross your path
jump the cracks or face the reaper's wrath

stare in the mirror but don't dare blink
gurgling sounds rise from the sink

a pin in the poppet inflicts the pain
an evil eyed curse to jinx your name

ominous clouds shroud the hunter's moon
witches of the night mount their brooms

bonfires blaze on all hallows eve
omens portend the future if you believe

Poetry ~ The Dead Inn


“Boo!”
Howled the Gatesman as I pulled up the drive, “Welcome to the Dead Inn, we’re so glad you’ve arrived.”

“Boo!”
Screeched the Butler as he opened the door and the maid looked up scrubbing blood from the floor.

“Boo!”
Groaned the Innkeeper as he tossed me a key, “Your room is upstairs, it’s marked door number three.”

“Boo!”
Snapped the Bell-hop with an evil glare, “It gets dark at night, hope you’re not scared.”

“Boo!”
Roared the monster from under the bed, “Enjoying your evening? You do know you’re dead?”

“Nooo!”
I screamed as I gathered my wits and ran down the stairs calling it quits. 

“Boo!”
Cried the Watchman as he locked the gate, “Oh, you must stay for dinner you can’t afford to be late.”

“The others will join you around the table at eight. All dead on arrival through these rusty gates.”

“Boo!”
Laughed the Grimm Reaper, “I guess heaven can wait!”