THE SCREAMING SKULL
The skull screams when the moon is bright,
Warning of evil a-foot in the night,
Calling to phantoms hidden from sight,
Keeping them all at bay.
Shrieking aloud when the zombies fight,
It glows in the darkness, waking with fright,
Shivering children, crying for light,
Fearful ‘til break of day.
High on a shelf, when the bats take flight,
The dead skull cries with all its might,
Disrupting dreams, however slight,
Sending them all away.
Creeping footfalls on the stair warn me that a ghost is there.
Shivering in my bed with fright, the door creaks open . . .
I TOLD YOU HE WAS REAL!
Deep within the forest,
Inside a magic ring,
Fairy lads pluck at their harps
While fairy maidens sing.
Queen Mab, arrayed in starlight,
Sits upon her chair,
Plotting all the dirty tricks
No other folk would dare.
Last spring they stole poor Margaret,
Sound asleep in bed.
They laid her in the Irish Sea
With stones beneath her head.
The fishes kept close vigil,
Traditional at wakes.
“Too bad,” remarked a hungry shark.
“A lovely corpse she makes!”
Dawn Pisturino is a licensed registered nurse in Arizona with a B.S. in Natural Health. Her publishing credits include poems, limericks, short stories, and health and wellness articles. She is a regular contributor to Underneath the Juniper Tree and Brooklyn Voice.