The Cottage

by | Sep 23, 2010 | Poetry | 0 comments

With white shuttered windows
And baskets of flowers
The cottage was perfect
A place to spend hours

The inside was cosy
An inglenook fire
A space to relax in
For folk to retire

All this was dressing
A respectable stance
For this was a place
Where the Devil would dance

As most folk were sleeping
Warm snug in their bed
A black witches’ coven
Would summon the dead

Into the cauldron
On the inglenook fire
They dropped all their potions
To make things transpire

Spells they would mutter
Then drink from the pot
The liquid would change them
Into things they were not

Eyes would grow wilder
Faces would change
Bodies would distort
Into creatures so strange

And as they cavorted
(Or some would revel)
Their cries and their moaning
Then summoned the devil

He entered the cottage
With a deafening roar
Evil emitting
From every foul pore

The orgy that followed
Was better not seen
Or even imagined
On dark Halloween

By morning the cottage
Was newly restored
No hint of the evil
Of last night’s mad horde

No indication
Of last night’s crazed scene
And Lucifer’s visit
On a dark Halloween


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