Spooky House

At the end of my street, quite near,

Sits the source of all that I fear.

Now a horror, once a jewel,

I run fast on my way to school.

`

Looms alone behind a high wall,

Watching me pass, the house sees all.

Hidden by trees most of the year.

But when fall comes so does my fear.

`

Autumn leaves drop, crunch under feet.

Out pops the house that haunts our street.

Halloween comes, chill in the air.

But trick-or-treaters won’t go there.

`

Lights never on, no cars in drive.

Shades always down, nothing alive.

I’ve heard stories, sounds in the night.

Of the house that causes our fright.

`

The shutters bang and hinges creak.

But no one dare to take a peek.

Many a ball lost over the gate.

Remember the score, game can wait!

`

Spooky shadows in the moonlight.

Ghostly shapes in the dark of night.

The vines on the porch creep and crawl.

Been scaring kids since mom was small.

`

Bats in attic, mice in the shed,

Phantoms inside or so it’s said.

Some say it’s empty, some say not.

Either way I’m worried a lot.

`

Off to bed one dreary fall night.

A bad time to turn off the light.

Mom tucks me in, we chat awhile.

She kissed my cheek, left with a smile.

`

My sleepy smile soon fades to fear.

When spooky house dreams soon appear.

I close my eyes and try to sleep,

Ran out of numbers counting sheep.

`

Outside shadows all a quiver.

Howling winds making me shiver.

I peeked from under my blanket,

The darkness said no sunrise yet.

`

I turned on the light to just wait.

For morning to come, that’ll be great.

Awoke to good news, called my friend.

Our sleepless nights where soon to end.

`

Someone bought the spooky old place.

Hopes to restore its former grace.

House got painted, bushes cut down.

What a great home, what a great town.

`

Windows fixed fresh grass on the ground,

Sunshine and flowers all around.

New families in, kids galore.

And I’m not afraid anymore.

`

We play in the yard, ride the swing.

We make up rhymes for us to sing.

Now my favorite place to be.

But once I thought the house spooky.

`

The End

Sck091914

Rest in Peace

The feeling was eerie and the air was cold.
And luck’s the reason this story’s told.
A misty moon mourned the starless night.
Finger-like branches obscured my sight.
~
A wrong turn made while homeward bound.
The path was new through unknown ground.
The fog grew thicker until all was black.
One misstep and I fell with a whack.
~
I tripped on a stone surrounded by more,
each a marker for a one-way door.
I’m surely welcomed but my time not right.
My eyes then drawn toward the light.
~
In the sky a lone star shone,
in a sea of billions we’re all alone.
Minutes in awe I lay there still,
but to soar with them I never will.
~
Thoughts of freedom filled my head,
but first to my feet amongst the dead.
A hand reached out to aid my rise.
My star consumed to my surprise.
~
A faceless figure was now my guide.
With a yank I was by their side.
My fate’s now held in arms unknown,
tip-toeing through that field of stone.
~
Iron gates clanged for us to follow.
An end perceived I did wallow.
The wind then howled its piercing felt.
Hale was next with ice to pelt.
~
Each breath shorter, each step less,
each second longer with greater the stress.
Suddenly my companion then mysteriously vanished.
Blindly I pawed for the safety I’d banished.
~
I yelled for help with no one to hear.
To die alone my biggest fear.
A tug at my ankle then sent me running.
Slipping on ice, the fall was stunning.
~
Blurry snowflakes covered my face.
Would I be found here frozen in place?
With one last breath I let out a scream.
And lucky was I to awake from that dream.

~*~
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Much Ado About Nothing

On a street that shouldn’t be there,
there’s a house that shouldn’t stand.
Its front is covered in thorny vines,
out back a yard of sand.
~
The windows are always open,
cats all come and go.
There’s a dog that barks all night,
it’s really a horror show.
~
There’s an old car in the driveway,
but no one has seen it move.
A radio’s always blasting upstairs,
so someone’s got the groove.
~
The locals all say it’s haunted,
they’ve heard stories all their life.
Newlyweds had once lived there,
but no one had ever seen the wife.
~
Packages and mail get delivered,
but the trash never goes out.
Imagination fills in the blanks,
cos that’s what fantasy’s about.

~*~
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Spooky Thoughts

The moment is near, the fear’s begun.
My nerves are frazzled, I’m under the gun.
A routine surgery, or so they say,
I think I’ll try to enjoy this day.
~
I woke up early to see the sun rise.
It could be the last to dazzle my eyes.
Crazy visions are filling my head.
It might be soon, I may be dead.
~
But that’s just nonsense, I’ll do great.
It’s too early to be called late.
The sun’s now high, distractions ensue.
Halloween awaits and I’ve much to do.

~*~
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Sleepy Town

Dusk shrouds foggy walks
Whispers heard when no one talks
The old town hall shines felicity
Its library shares the pageantry

Main Street bristles with conspicuous zeal
Spirits roam unseen when unreal
Tales abound of young maidens kissed
Faces unknown for souls unmissed

Yarns be spun of their tiny cove
Time surrounds, the mind does rove
Behind every door lie stories untold
Life in a village three hundred years old

High on the hill sits a Queen Anne alone
She’s peaks of copper and footing of stone
Her windows boarded to hide the view
Abandoned by the town, seen by few

The home once a school for wayward boys
Most had no families, none knew of toys
A cagey couple was completely in charge
Both small in stature yet looming large

The mistress taught letters with pointer or switch
The master kept numbers making them rich
Gruel’s fed to the students, the master’s meat
The boys froze; the pair warmed by their heat

Ablaze was the furnace ahead of each storm
The lads safely locked in their cold attic dorm.
Their sniffles and sneezes all kept at bay
The masters swept all the sickness away

Each year had runaways, never to be found
Searches end at the edge of school ground
Then came a young man sheltered in error
He promptly escaped and reported the terror

Inquires made, investigations were had
The masters left freely, the mayor glad
The school was closed with little fanfare
The boys sent away with little a care

Rumors lost from days long past
Horrors are hidden all too fast
No more’s said of the young boys plight
And another sun sets on a sleepy town’s night

~*~

sck121115

Left Behind

Lost in a wandering state of mind,
returning to memories I thought left behind.
A campground awaits from decades of yore,
There’s a lake nearby and nature galore.

Summers there filled with family and friends,
as the specter of youth unknowingly ends.
The journey’s now short to a time long past.
My cabin soon appears while the sun fades fast.

The sky was clear, blues deepened to black.
The stars shone bright, they welcomed me back.
I relaxed on the porch and sipped iced tea,
my friends due tomorrow the night was for me.

With waning moon the damp mist rose,
crickets serenaded, eyes started to close.
Blissful sensations then the start of dreams,
when startled was I by familiar screams.

Dolly, Dolly, Dolly! was all she ever said,
her childhood taunts now flooding my head.
She’s the ghostly remains of horrors we’d share.
The truth is haunting when better a nightmare.

She would scratch at the screen above my bed.
I’d shriek and shiver and cower with dread.
Mornings would come, I’d report of my fright,
“that little girl’s ghost came to take me last night”.

My brothers would tease and mom consoled,
dad says they’re figments of tales I’ve been told.
But when evenings cool and crescent moon high,
dense fog rose and that child would cry.

Dolly, dolly, dolly is all she would say,
Her bony hand summoned and pointed the way.
Never dared I answer her mournful request.
Silently I’d wait, ignoring my guest.

It’s been many years since last we met.
Time I’ve tried hard, but to never forget.
Now I’ve matured and conscience will decide.
Am I to seek or again shall I hide?

I know not what of this phantoms despair.
Yet together there’s grief we seemingly share.
Her woe is death while mine’s the living.
Each is assured though neither forgiving.

Our paths have crossed, all have an end.
My choice is made by this spirited friend.
With eyes open wide follow I must,
forsaking not, that lost child’s trust.

I rose and leaned forward, held out my hand.
Our fate’s to obey and to command.
We dashed through the field and into the woods.
A moment imagined of pleasant childhoods.

Each step echoes with brittle twig snap.
Till the shadows of trees soon overlap.
To guide my way mere slivers of light,
pursuing my phantom into the night.

Thicket and bramble claw at my skin,
bleeding the courage from deep within.
The worn paths end at fresh fallen leaf,
this forest beyond, beyond my belief.

Spirits roam free where the living don’t tread.
My friend had returned to her life of the dead.
I wished again to hide safe behind closed eyes,
trading this vision for dreams of blue skies.

The girl then pointed at boulders stacked high,
interwoven with brush to hide from the eye.
All layers of shadow, grays deepened to black,
foretelling the depth of crevice and crack.

Her hazy glow grew brighter, eyes more intense,
repeated cries for dolly now making sense.
She’s lost a dear friend and I’m chosen to find.
To abandon now this child was beyond unkind.

Exited are we, our quest’s nearly done.
‘Twas a test of persistence, both surely won.
My mind’s now a flutter, heart beating proud,
grasping in darkness through thick thorny shroud.

Our search going well till that last step was taken,
the ground then vanished, I was tumbled and shaken.
I awoke sometime later to whispers, mumbles and cries.
My new friend stood close as I opened my eyes.

I saw Dolly held tightly and a bustle nearby.
Mourners had grouped where a still body lie.
A lifeless figure with a familiar shape and size.
The live too are familiar, all saying goodbyes.

The little girl thanked me for my many good deeds.
As slowly she faded having found what she needs.
I begged to be taken for I’ve been truly kind.
When last she said “You need first find needs left behind.”

.
Sck021616

Keeping Spirits

Nature batters, scarring far and wide.
Forgotten battles forever tied.
Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.
Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.

Keeping the wary from a watery hell,
a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.
Keeping by day his glass shined bright,
by night he keeps his flame alight.

Warning all comers never to near,
this beacon of virtue is only to fear.
Bravely they stand against wind and wave,
the ocean master, keeper slave.

Chores of many, companions none.
Sleep begins when work is done.
Ventures end before the dark.
His light stands silent awaiting spark.

Beyond this rock and choppy cove,
a small town lie where tales are wove.
Stories of stormy seas abound,
and faraway lands where treasure’s found.

In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.
Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.
Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.
His row is long to return to his fire.

Scores of seasons drifted behind.
The keeper and kept, two of a kind.
Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.
Keeping kept the keepers call.

Reflections of stars upon the sea.
Infinite horizons awaiting he.
A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.
To see the light the keep did go.

The town sad for their keeper unknown.
He was buried with care as one of their own.
At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.
With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.

Dozens of keepers tried to keep.
All had left quickly, missing their sleep.
Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.
A most spirited and demanding of host.

He rattled windows and slammed doors,
once hid away the old rowboats oars.
His steps are heard on the stairs all night,
sometimes blowing out the lighthouse’s light.

On a chilly morn some years past,
a storm was brewing, approaching fast.
A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,
racing the waves ahead of the night.

With setting sun and drenching rain,
wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.
Shores altered with the rising tide,
The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.

The keeper’s remains returned to sea.
The young sailor now keeps – happily.
And ever since that fateful day,
the old keeps spirit kept at bay.

Sck102415dft

Morning Triku # 174 ~ Good Starts

No Down Side

Creativity’s
not about making things up,
it’s making things work.
~

Conundrum

If love made as much
as the time I spend writing,
I’d no time to write.
~

All Good

Love is beautiful,
when all else is not. Love is
all when from the heart.

~*~
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Cherry on Top Sundries Shoppe

Every Sunday me and my Pop

Take a walk to the old sundries shop

Winter’s in boots and summer flip-flops

Anytime to the Cherry on Top

*

It’s not just a store, it’s so much more

A magic box filled with sundries galore

It’s everyone’s first and their last stop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Welcoming doors always polished bright

Welcoming all to their sundries delight

Every week is a brand new crop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

*

A place with things too many to list

Lipsticks for lips that want to be kissed

There are bouncing balls and bats that bop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Combs and brushes for hair and teeth

Halloween treats and Holiday wreaths

Baskets for bunnies with ears that flop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Row after row of this’s and that’s

There are racks for jackets, hooks for hats

Handles for brooms and buckets for mops

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

There’s cases packed with trinkets so bright

Batteries stacked for flashlights at night

They’ve got cards to send and cards to swap

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Way at the back, there’s medicines there

Carefully mixed by people who care

They carefully measure, count and chop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Then the place – my favorite of all

It’s the lunch-counter, where I sit tall

Serving pie with whipped cream and gumdrops

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

They’ve cakes, cookies, turkey and roasts

My dad always gets; juice, eggs and toast

Sunday’s best at the old sundries Shoppe

I get my sunday, cherry on top

~

The End

.

Sck102314

Buttons

buttons_steve~kittell_01

Buttons, buttons everywhere,
they’re on this and over there.
They’re on clothes and touch-screens.
They’re on phones and flying machines

They can be found in boxes or jars,
or in neat rows on boats and cars.
Being on the button is good,
pushing people’s, you never should.

Some buttons are big, some are small.
Some buttons do nothing at all,
some are outies others innies,
silly buttons on our bellies.

You may have a cute button nose,
to enjoy the smell of sweet rose.
While buttoned up or buttoned down,
in the rain or strolling in town.

Buttons in all shapes, any size,
having a spare is always wise.
Buttons for eyes on our stuffed friends.
Uses for buttons never ends.

We glue them on paper plates,
making gifts for special dates.
Add string then sprinkle glitter on,
next curly yarn, name in crayon.

Some are toggles, some are switches.
Some like snaps to hold up breeches.
No zippers for me, I prefer,
buttons to hold all together.

Glad to share my buttons with you,
we’re all buttoned up, story through.
Rhyme’s done, time to button my lip,
I’ll say goodbye, have a safe trip.

The End                        sck081414

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/467759

A Cycling We Will Go

With the summer comes the fall.
With the heat the colors call.
With a breeze the leaves afloat,
it’s the season, a chill we’ll note.
~
Autumn passes to winters white.
With the snow comes a longer night.
With the darkness time will slow.
With our dreams sunshine will glow.
~
Spring is born to bursting hues.
A rebirth’s given for paying dues.
With this life we’re nature drawn.
With a vision this world we’ll fawn.
~
With a blink the green consumes.
Our bodies warm, our thought blooms.
Days awaken to skies of blue.
With the sunset comes dawn anew.

~*~
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Hot and Cold Memories

We all walked to school without a care.
We stopped at the store with pennies to share.
Cats and dogs always ran free.
Trees were claimed by them and me.
~
We rode our bikes like we were all nuts.
Our hands and knees came home with cuts.
Bikes had brakes most of the time,
or slowed by sneakers covered in grime.
~
Any spot with grass was called a yard.
We swam in places with no lifeguard.
Snowballs were made no matter the cost.
We wore socks on our hands when gloves were lost.
~
We all had to fight every once in a while.
Our moms would yell but dads would smile.
Rooms were shared and sometimes beds,
smelly feet tickling their brother’s heads.
~
Then junior high came and we had to change.
Our hair grew long and our clothes got strange.
Many smoked cigarettes and other stuff.
There were lots of choices but enough was enough.
~
Childhood then ended and the troubles began.
When the problems started most of us ran.
Some now have passed; some did well,
but all fondly remembered though it was hell.

~*~
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Tomorrows Start Today

The morning’s young, the night is past.
The time is now but it’s going fast.
Awaken now from your peaceful rest.
Today’s the day to start your quest.
~
Risen with the sun all will grow.
Though paths oft long, journey’s often slow.
With eyes toward the future, feet on the ground,
heart beats guide to destinations found.
~
Relish each moment without delay.
Thanks to be given along the way.
Share the joy with all you meet.
Tomorrows, then we’ll gladly greet.

~*~
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Back and Forth

The pros and cons of death
are the ins and outs of breath.
The ups and downs of life
are the this and that’s of strife.

Forward or back, taut or slack,
fast or slow it’s the average we know
Top or bottom leaves in between.
Front and back the rest’s unseen.

Heads or tails the inner hides.
No coin has only just two sides.
Life is choices, more than two.
There’s more to it than me and you.

Books may contain all that’s known.
Everything else we’re on our own.
Soft or hard a landing’s assured.
Highs and lows are endured.

While ponderings spiral unabated,
decision’s made as we waited.
Time’s endless, though ours is not.
Hit or miss, it’s worth a shot.

~*~
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Positive Charge

Can love grow every day?
Yes it can I’m here to say.
It starts as a glance, blooms with a kiss.
And thus begins a life of bliss.
~
Hearts beat, each in tune.
Harmony’s struck beneath the moon.
Poetic thoughts flow with ease,
thoughts of passion sure to please.
~
Time has changed for the good.
Our world now feels as it should.
Downside’s nil when the upside large.
And negatives retreat with a positive charge.

~*~
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The Rest of the Story

Jack and Jill went up the hill.
But that story’s been told before.
At the top a shack they found.
Then they proceeded to kick in the door.
~
The inside was pleasant to their surprise.
They couldn’t have wished for more.
They drank some cider that was found.
Then soon they began to snore.
~
They woke in the dark with foggy eyes.
Their heads were appropriately sore.
Their laughter now was in the past.
The fear they couldn’t ignore.
~
Hours of pain they had endured.
In silence they lay on the floor.
The owner came home just after sunrise.
And the rest became folklore.

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Aught

Days pass without a thought.
Life flows, words are naught.
Fantasy’s forged, reality wrought.
Patience builds, time has taught.
~
The future is the past brought.
The present is where caught.
Work consumes, hurdle fraught.
Solace earned, never bought.
~
Joy is when not distraught.
Dreams fought, wishes besought.
Love defined by what is sought.
Success is, as it ought.

~*~
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Loving Science

~
Searching in theory for relativity,
thoughts of you expanding constantly.
Feelings’ compounding exponentially,
your smile and warmth is my felicity.

With every kiss sparking electricity,
stars align lighting our intensity.
Our formula’s blending unequivocally,
biologically chemistry’s evolutionary.

Your infinite hues color a poet’s eccentricity,
soundly proving the love of you and me.

~*~
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Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
~

Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
~

Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

~*~
SCK111218

No Act Play

Our time apart,
let’s call it art,
performed by you and me.

Scenes created,
of time elated,
hearts and minds set free.

Direction’s un-needed,
cos soon you’ll be greeted,
by dreams and wishes we share.

Reality resumes,
our passion consumes,
inhibitions we now dare.

The curtain will close,
the applause still goes
fantasy’s now to start.

The love we’ve made,
is never to fade,
encores we’re always a part.

~*~
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