Denied – A Dash of Sunny

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The winds they howl and moan tonight
They say they’ll bring the folks a fright
Tear down trees and windows break
The gales will keep us all awake

‘Tis Halloween, the ghosts and ghouls
Should roam the earth and steal our souls
But the weather has them beat
And whipped them all from off their feet

They’re wrapped around the chimney stacks
Caught in trees, trapped in shacks
The wind has sucked away their cries
And turned them dumb, to their surprise

They clench their fists and gnash their teeth
Their tortured souls find no release
The one night of the year for fun
Has left our ghastly ghostlies glum

Frustrated in their scary games
They feel let down, a sense of shame
That dawn is almost on their heels
And not a scream has been revealed

From the throats of human prey
The winds have stolen fear away
The storm dies down, the daylight looms
The scary fiends are bathed in gloom

‘Twas Halloween, a terrible night
For ghosts that die to cause a fright
Mother Nature upped her game
The ghouls were silenced – what a shame!


It’s time for the weekly challenge from A Dash of Sunny, and this week, she asks us to write on ghosts. I’m very happy about this, since I had been looking back through my blog archives and found a poem I first wrote for dVerse in October 2013, when the prompt was (of course) Hallowe’en related. I remember enjoying writing this at the time – let’s face it, I don’t often reveal my comedic slant (at least not in writing!).

I hope you enjoy it, this sideways look on ghosts. Please do head over to A Dash of Sunny to delve into the other side, courtesy of the creative folks that take part!

Reaping and Sowing – Five Sentence Fiction

Kit was an utterly marvellous boy – I called him that because he seemed so young, such a rough diamond and oh! such a refreshing change from the insipid and polished eldest sons of eldest sons Father insisted I meet.

Of course, I knew it was impossible – Father would no more have let me walk out with Kit than if I had asked to marry one of the toads ringing the marshy edges of our lake.

Sadly, oh so sadly, Kit never could understand how these things worked – as far as he was concerned, an honest job meant he was an honest man, and that should be good enough for anybody, even the likes of Captain de Riviera.

It was partly my fault, I confess that now – I had no way of knowing how to handle such a virile and passionate creature, and I led him on, far too far…

Poor Kit… and not to mention, poor me.



Here is my latest entry into the lovely Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this beuatiful photo for us as this week’s inspiration.

This week, my tale follows on from a flash fiction piece I wrote for VisDare, as the images seemed to work well together.

Please do visit here to read, read, read some more! No two pieces will be the same…

Oil and Water – VisDare


Photo source

Little Mo is well-known in these parts.

We’ve all seen her, even Lighterman Roberts with his tricorn hat and air of disdain. He won’t admit it, won’t confess to a sighting of the supernatural, but I’ve heard him as he walks down the streets, lighting the lamps at dusk-fall. He claims to be talking to his dog, a grizzled lurcher by the name of Mutt. In public, and especially when he’s in his cups, he treats that poor animal like dirt. There’s no way he’d bill and coo at Mutt as if he was wooing a lady. No, he’s seen Little Mo alright, and I fancy she tippy-toes alongside him in the cobbled streets every night.

She came to a dark end, did Little Mo. She was Captain de Riviera’s youngest daughter. He spoiled her so, and she got to thinking she could charm the birds off the trees. Instead, all she charmed was a feckless youth from our mean streets, teasing him with her fancy ways. It was enough to drive a poor young man wild.

That’s what Lighterman Roberts tells her, anyway.

I reckon he knows all about Little Mo. and I reckon she deserved it.


Here’s my latest entry to the lovely Angela’s VisDare.

I hope you enjoy this week’s tale – I’ve tied it in with my Five Sentence Fiction entry this week, where you just might get to hear Little Mo’s side of the story!

Please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!