The crooked hall – a poem


Rain poured, clothes soaked. Through woods & mud, half-crawled, half-walked. Branches catching & creatures laughing, she stumbled forwards

To behold! Between misted lawns & twisted trees, as if born from a dream – the crooked hall.

Welcomed in, she stood amazed, appalled. The place dim lit, dusted, rot climbing walls; yet splendid shimmered under grime.

Ushered to abandon damp things, up & up the creaky stairs she went. Taken to a panelled room where awaited, a four poster bed.

Laid within the faded covers, sleep took over quick, dragging her to dreamless places; until a shriek echoed near and she came wide awake.

Trembling, she rose – what haunted place was this? She stared ahead, unnatural mists unrolled and a figure began to form.

He drifted close, smiled too pale. Yet a handsome face she saw. His clothes of tatters, old/worn glimmered from hidden lights.

A hand he offered, bowed polite. Waited with patience of someone with time to waste, as the fog crept away.

She took the hand. He took her breath. A steam raced between them; held fast, trapped! For a heart-beat she struggled, then gave in.

She saw no malice in his intent, her breath had merely warmed him. She felt a tremor as he approached – nearer.

He settled upon the bed. His physique strangely strong, despite his vapidness.

His coldness pressed against her flesh. They began to moan. A deep low sound that slipped across the floor.

She rose and fell within his embrace. He carried her through mists and time. He took her and she went merrily, she didn’t care he was ghost.

Somewhere, an owl shrieked, as spirit merged with earthly bound, in the crooked hall.

~~~~ this erotic poem (each part 140 characters or less) appears in my next eBook:

Strange Meetings by Elizabeth Haley-Wood

out soon!   ~~~

Lizzie HW


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