Old House

Monsters in My Sleep

Locked away

Creaking green monsters

Make noises

Dry hinges

Waking me out of my sleep

Frightening me to death


Eerie sounds

From behind chimney

Frightened boy

Hearing ghosts

Visions of creepy monsters

Screaming calls for mom


Woke from sleep

Wiping cheese from eyes

Comes to me

Assures me

There’s no such thing as monsters

Must be this old house


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Amaya came up with a unique and interesting prompt for our d’Verse Poetry Pub.  She asked us to write a poem using the  Shadorma form which has six line stanzas and a syllable pattern of 3-5-3-3-7-5.  The concept is something that is elusive… perhaps paranormal… there but not there…something you cannot put your finger on. I chose to write about an experience of waking up at night, hearing creaking noises and imagining green ghosts in the walls, and calling for my mom.

Come join us at:

29 thoughts on “Monsters

  1. I’m weird and always loved the thrill of hearing those creepy sounds in the chimney, night creaks of the house. I guess mother’s presence, as you mention, was enough of a steadfast comfort to let me revel in a bit of otherside imagination. Thanks for the poem, Dwight.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s