| Gargoyle He sits high above in the city gloom, his tail tucked around in a tight coil. Non-blinking carved eyes watch the world and all its turmoil. Ever vigilant is this sentinel made of stone. His lines not as sharp as before; Dull and weathered from the rain, smog and being wind-blown. As the clamor of the city goes on below; The watcher watches alone. Loneliness, jealousy, and desire to him are all unknown. His view has changed all these countless years. Treelines and vast frontiers all replaced; Steel and glass now besmear. The homeless and hopeless stare up at him -the perching gargoyle, They worry about greed, power, or money; The rich and politicians, and all they despoil. Good or Evil?-was he sent from Heaven or Hell? The answer is etched on his silent face; frozen in mid-yell. |
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| Copyright Cheryl L. Greenwell 2004 |
| NightMare She stirs and rises at the sun's last glare. Black, shiny, gleaming hooves- Thick silky onyx hair. Pale, pink eyes- nothing could hold their stare. Silently she leaps into the cool night air. Patiently she waits for the "Good Nights" to be declared. Lingering nearby for blissful sleep to ensnare. Her quarry will soon become quite impaired. For sleep leaves the multitude totally unaware. She moves slowly among the sleeper's thoughts with due care. For now their thoughts and hers are both shared. She chooses indiscriminately, so all beware. It is impossible to flee from this mare's lair. Those that can are few and quite rare. Victims chosen she begins to prepare. With a flick of her long black tail, she is ready to scare. She creates entire alternate worlds with great flair. Dark, lonely, ugly, frighting dreams that evoke despair. Terrors and dreadful images that are beyond compare. Dreams so vivid and graphic some dreamer's brains require repair. She flies in eventually visiting everyone, everywhere. She is relentless, old and new alike, no one is spared. So go to sleep if you dare- For this is the never-ending flight of the NightMare. |
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