The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
If Stardrops Fell
by Lori R. Lopez
Beneath a Wolf Moon on a silver-laced night
when the fogs were dense roamed a girl in white.
Her eyes toward the clouds she flowed with the brush,
never snagged by a thorn, seldom caring to rush . . .
But if stardrops fell, the lass traced their descent
to the base of the heavens, her visage content.
And quick would she travel to pillage the shines
by filling an Hourglass for selfish designs.
All the luminous orbs gaily flickered on boughs
like a diamond-bush forest or candlelight vows.
In her haste to collect them she grew less relaxed,
her dress a bit torn, her veneer showing cracks.
Movements more rigid, aggressively paced,
intent on the prizes, the girl swiftly raced.
Peasant villagers knew to stay in on such Eves,
yet none of them gathered what she had up her sleeves.
The female a phantom, the subject of tales;
her rambles were legend, unlike those travails.
In the story they knew, a balance must be kept
by avoiding her mention, even while they slept.
Her names were untold and should never be spoken —
for to breathe either one, a truce would be broken . . .
Harsh storms of agony, blood-rains of turmoil,
bleak worlds of dismay down from ether could boil . . .
A tranquil mood nixed, transformed into rage.
The tantrum of a child. A virulent rampage.
Tease not a whisper. Bite your tongue clean off!
In these times of cold gloom, risk nary a cough.
Any syllable might come too close in sound.
Every clue was lost, not a shred to be found.
No record remained of what shouldn’t be said.
The guardians of lore were long ago dead.
Still she wandered the hills sprouting plants of Bane,
black of fire and sun, gray as ghost terrain . . .
Remote as a desert of shy desolate dunes,
an oasis of tufts solely fit for near-loons . . .
Swept by a sea of writhing frosts and vapors,
like a widow’s veil wafting feathery capers.
She pranced through the froth in a garden of fleece,
attracted by winks on her bounding caprice . . .
Chasing sparkles and shimmers of Fire-Flies;
a loner out wading the mist with mooneyes . . .
Reaching the shrubs flecked by spectral glow,
pausing to admire them, poised on tiptoe.
Then picking and plucking as if handfuls of berries
to stuff in a jar, or capturing Fairies . . .
She robbed Constellations from a Map Of The Stars,
till the single bright point at night would be Mars.
“Now finally I can get some quality sleep!”
Curled up on the grass, she was slumbering deep.
But the rest of the planet would plunge in despair,
overrun Dusk to Dawn, gangs and mobs everywhere . . .
Bad elements and brutes, bands of villainous knaves;
the savage, the ghoulish, the rotters from graves . . .
The corrupt and immoral, the stonehearted cruel;
only the two-faced could otherwise rule . . .
For the balance of Light versus Dark is precise,
and stealing the sky’s twinkle wasn’t that nice.
Fiction © Copyright Lori R. Lopez
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Lori R. Lopez:
Darkverse: The Shadow Hours
A rich gathering of poetry with a dismal twilight atmosphere, a brooding nature, an eerie tone . . . DARKVERSE: THE SHADOW HOURS encompasses such pieces written by Lori R. Lopez between 2009 and 2017, collected in three of her POETIC REFLECTIONS volumes along with humorous and serious verse. This ample compendium allows a more focused reading experience and mood — presenting poems that share speculative themes, flashes of horror, glimpses of madness.
Lori is the author of THE DARK MISTER SNARK, THE STRANGE TAIL OF ODDZILLA, LEERY LANE, MONSTROSITIES, AN ILL WIND BLOWS, and THE FAIRY FLY among other tales. She has been called a storyteller, whether composing verse or prose.
The aim of her Darkverse series is to offer a chilling trek through unlit stretches where all manner of creeps and kooks may lurk; where graveyards and bogs and full-moons abound. The pages of The Shadow Hours illuminate those morbid uncanny perils and dreads that inhabit drab corners, the known and unknown terrors of the night. Vivid and distinct, her voice echoes our worst fears then delves beyond, exposing hitherto unimaginable frights.
Prepare to confront a motley array of ghouls and menaces that might just move under your bed.
DARKVERSE: THE SHADOW HOURS is an Elgin Award Nominee and a 2018 Kindle Book Awards Poetry Finalist. Look for an Illustrated Print Edition with quirky art by the author.
Please don’t forget to visit the other WiHM 11 projects taking place!
A beautiful poem.
Thank you, Anita!!! Very much appreciated. ❤