Sandaig Poets  -

Links: Archive |EntryPhantoms in hiding

Megan Miller

“It’s me,” muttered the traveller
Chapping on the mossy door.
And the gargoyles gazed down at the man
They had surely saw before…

The Ivy crept up the eerie house
As the clouds fell across the full moon.
The owls are hooting, the traveller is worrying
His horse will be back soon.

“Do hurry up,” moaned the traveller
“Please can you let me in”?
“There are spiders and cobwebs, whispers and murmurs
Something’s rattling inside that bin…

Oh you will not guess what was inside the bin
Something the man didn’t know.
It was a group of ghastly phantoms
That wanted him to go…

They tapped and tapped till their feet were sore
Trying to make a din.
But it was no use and so the head ghost
Flew out of the grey, smelly bin.

“Go away “droaned the phantom
“Your not wanted here”
And the traveller fell back in shock
“Quickly the traveller whimpered in terror and in fear…

Links: Archive |EntryAre You In Here ?

Are you in here? Whispered the traveller,
Rattling on the corroding door.
And the stretching shadows of the swaying trees
Moaned to the dark eyes of the ghostly wolves.
And a bat fluttered out of the cracked pane,
Clipping the traveller with its leathery wing.
And he kicked upon the damp, dusty door.
Are you in here? He spake louder this time,
But no peering eyes from beyond the door were seen,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a herd of ghastly souls
That dwelt behind the cracked walls,
were listening in the shattering moonlight
To that chant from a distant world.

The End

Stuart .. P ..

Links: Archive |EntryThe Traveller Mystery

UNLOCK THE DOOR I SAY SAID THE TRAVELLER,
WHEN THE MOON POLISHED GROUND SHOOK.
THEN THE LIGHTNING BROKE OUT,
THE DOOR SUDDENLY CREAKED OPEN .
THE OWL SWOOSHED OUT OF THE PINE TREES,
THEN THE CROW SQUAWKED OUT OF THE BROKEN TURRET.
THEN THERE WAS NOTHING THERE WAS NO OWLS CROWS BATS OR,
HOUSE NOT EVEN THE TRAVELLER OR,
HIS HORSE NO FOREST OR,
MOON NO STARS NO DARKNESS OR CREATURES.

RYAN

Links: Archive |EntryThe Traveller

I 've brought it he shouted rattling
on the old ragged door.
And he heard the squeaking of the bat
flittering above his head.
And the echo of the owl flying above
the trees.
He heard the gate creaking as he walked
on the gravely path.
And he saw the stretching shadows
of the trees waving above his head.
He saw the shinning moonbeam
scattered on the moonlit door.
And he heard the the bang of the door when
slowly turning his head.
He saw the shadows of the bats going
round and round his head.
Tell them I came and I brought the money
that I kept my word he whispered.


Lauren

Links: Archive |EntryThe Traveller

'I have returned,' said the traveller,
Banging on the wooden door.
And he scuttled up the moonlight floor,
Where and owl glided over the shadowy trees.
And ivy grows up the stoney wall,
Where the window creaks open
And a shadow peaks through.
When the Traveller knocked once again,
when there is no answer and no call.
He's there confused and sleepy,
Where the phantom listeners dwell in the lone house.
when the howl of the wolfs echoes,
where the moonbeams shined on the wolfs grey eyes.
Where the horse is cropping the ferny grass.
'Tell him returned' and no one replied,
'That i kept my secret', he said.


Carla

Links: Archive |EntryThe listeners

Is there any one home cried the traveller
Kicking the old inn door,
And the wolves howl
Echo’s in the distance.
His footsteps where rustling
Among the dead leaves,
And mice where shuffling
Around the forests ferny floor.
All you could hear
Was the horse champing champing champing,
And walking up the path
Shuffling to the old inn door.
The shadow of the gravestone
Stretched in the moonlights beam.
I came banging on the door
Ill be back he shouted.

JACK

Links: Archive |EntryTHE WEIRD NIGHT

Open this door or I will get my horse screamed the traveller,
Knocking on the barred window.
And the owl flew high and hooted loud,
As the wolfs howl rose though the whistling wind.
And the scudderling bat flew screeching though the sky.
And the statue fell and cracked as the owls landed on it.
Meet me hear tomorrow and bring your pistol too.

Amy

Links: Archive |EntryTHE TRAVELLER

“It’s me” muttered the traveller
Walking up the mouldy path.
And the rain tapping quietly
As the red paints peeling off.

The traveller got to the door
And heavy rain is starting to pour.
The sunflowers are dying
And weeds are shooting through.

Mossy statues eyes are chasing him up the mouldy path.
And mice are scampering around.
The door knockers falling off
And murmuring in the distance is getting closer.

“Tell them I came and you chickened out”
laughed the traveller.
As he left the worn out garden.

DARREN