Where To?A Poem by Lovecraft
The sweet meadow nearby, perfumed flowers, alive with vibrant colors,
Bluebirds swirling and singing their beautiful melody, carefree and happy, Small chipmunks scurrying pleasantly back and forth, playful things, Cloudless skies with bright sun, oak tree's nearby to provide shade, A lone Dragonfly buzzing through the meadow, blue and green, While an Eagle soars far above but does not hunt here. But what of the Swamp not far off? Dank and wet, decaying in its own degradation and filth, cloying mud, Darkness pervades, swallowing the sun, while Owls and Rats scurry, Giant Moths searching for the Light that is not present, floating, Spanish Moss hanging from withered tree's, trying to grab something. A Bat darts through the swamp, chasing its minuscule prey, eating. Then there are the Whippoorwills, mocking in their tone. Perhaps I shall visit both. Perhaps I have to visit both, In my own due time.
© 2017 LovecraftAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorLovecraftSpencerport, NYAbout“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown” - H.P. Lovecraft Scientia Potentia Est- Latin- Knowledge is Power.. more..Writing
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