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Midnight weirdness
Poetry Contest Description
You are the local witch and give the midnight tour at the cemetary
You could write this in the first person or the third person. Or, why not, from the point of view of one of the people in the group of visitors. Poems up to approx 50 lines. Short stories to approx 1,000 words. Have fun.
Midnight weirdness
Midnight weirdness.
It is my own competition
But I don't ''see it''
No inspiration.
I know the witch is there
For tourists she awaits
She has plans for surprises
And scary moments.
As she stands by the janitor's lodge
Next to the small chapel, she eyes
The crow on top of the crucifix
And prays to the Goddess of the crows
While spreading a few bits of dry food and other remains as a sacrifice.
And a small tribute to such greatness.
And she waits.
It is a full moon night
She feels radiant, powerful
And full of energy
As she waits for the arrival of a curious tourist or three
But all is quiet and all she hears
Through the gentle breeze
Is the plaintive sounds and moans
Of her ancestor,
The Great Witch Frieda
Buried in Plot 173.
It is my own competition
But I don't ''see it''
No inspiration.
I know the witch is there
For tourists she awaits
She has plans for surprises
And scary moments.
As she stands by the janitor's lodge
Next to the small chapel, she eyes
The crow on top of the crucifix
And prays to the Goddess of the crows
While spreading a few bits of dry food and other remains as a sacrifice.
And a small tribute to such greatness.
And she waits.
It is a full moon night
She feels radiant, powerful
And full of energy
As she waits for the arrival of a curious tourist or three
But all is quiet and all she hears
Through the gentle breeze
Is the plaintive sounds and moans
Of her ancestor,
The Great Witch Frieda
Buried in Plot 173.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Midnight Moonlight Cemetery Tour
The bus stopped in front of the cemetery gates
And us guests right away felt a chill in the air
As the tour guide all dressed in black waited
With a lantern that barely gave a flickering flare
The tour guide wore a cloak covering her face
She gave creepy and weird vibes all around
But that’s the experience we had paid for
As we stepped into the dark cemetery grounds
The eight of us walked through the graveyard
Deeper into a dimness that had no depth
The midnight moonlight seemed so pale
As the air got colder I could see my breath
I broke the silence and asked “Is anyone cold?”
And when I turned around one person was gone
The rest of us looked at each other amused
I guess some were too scared to make it till dawn
Our tour guide walked us passing many graves
Through a maze of mausoleums and tombs
The lantern barely gave light it felt like quite a fright
As our shadows seemed to drag with gloom
We came to a deserted crypt hidden by trees
I didn’t even think we were on cemetery land
Two guys next to me started shaking so bad
One of them said “fuck it, I’m out” turned and ran
We arrived at the entrance of the old catacomb
And it seemed like it would go underground
“I can’t do this” a woman told her boyfriend
So they both walked away going back to town
My wife held my hand so tight I lost all feeling
It was just her and I and the tour mysterious guide
Then she said “this shit is too scary” and left
But I continued by some foolish delirious pride
It was just me and the woman in the long dark cloak
I felt a chill up and down my spine right into my bones
Everyone backed away and now I was the only left
Because I wanted to prove that I had the stones
And yet amidst the shadows I began to see eyes
Glowing faintly in the depths of the dark crypt
As the tour guide began to laugh softly and eerily
And all I could think was “is this shit part of the script?”
Then I began to hear whispers and strange murmurs
As the lantern’s light began to complete fade away
Then the tour guide’s face began to reveal herself
Dimming into complete darkness showing her decay
Written by wallyroo92
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