Creepy, Dark, Howling Woods
If anything can make your blood pressure rise, it's these woods...
**This poem was written for the Vocal+Assist Facebook Group challenge by Rick Henry. The challenge suggested a poem over 100 words that mentions blood presure, the word beautiful, and a word that rhymes with beautiful.
**Also, in the spirit of the Full Moon challenge, I've had werewolves on the brain. This poem is the clash of the two challenges in my tired mind. I make no apologies, and offer this mood music:
These Woods Have Eyes!
What do I hear in the forest beautiful?
Is it the howl of the wolf so dutiful?
Maybe a bigfoot is on the prowl,
I’ve heard they also have a howl.
And don’t the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I hear in the woods in the dark?
I heard something scratching against the tree bark!
The claws sound big and the scraping is long --
It must be a monster so big and strong!
And don’t the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I sense in this twilight zone?
I'm being watched, I'm not all alone --
Ghost or murderer -- or yikes -- one of each!
If only my phone wasn't out of cell reach!
And don't the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I see in this deep ethereal?
Something is lurking, mist barely conceals.
It's probably hairy, with sharp, drooling fangs,
Looking for lost girls to quell hunger pangs.
And don't the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I see coming out of the fog?
Much too imposing to be just a dog --
Werewolves in a pack! Not just one, but eight!
I fear even if I run fast I am ate.
And don't the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I feel on the back of my neck?
Warm breath from the monster -- he's gaining, awww heck!
But I'm not a quitter, even in these extremes,
I climb up a tree and I let loose shrill screams!
And don't the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I feel in the pine branches now?
The tree sees me here -- and is shaking its bough!
Even the trees seem to crave my demise.
This must be the ending, I'm forced to surmise.
And don't the trees in these woods have eyes?
It makes my blood pressure rise.
What do I fear as I tumble through branches?
I fear most the loss of remaining chances
To make things right with a person or two.
If I survive that's the first thing I'll do.
The trees watch me fall with their sinister eyes!
It makes my blood pressure rise.
As soon as I land, my blood pressure won't matter.
I'll care a lot less and I'll be a lot flatter.
Or if I survive this unfortunate fall --
The slobbering beasts will for sure end it all.
The trees watch me fall with their sinister eyes!
It makes my blood pressure rise.
When these creatures catch me and make me bleed,
My tale will be told as a caution – take heed!
Don’t travel alone in the deep, dark, wood --
It never ends with anything good.
When they bite, my blood pressure's sure to fall –
And in this moment, most crucial of all --
I wake to the howl of my coworker's call:
“Get up! Get up, you crazy loon!
"You always sleep late on the full moon!”
I hang up, turn over, and close my eyes.
Weekdays make my blood pressure rise!
About the Creator
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Keep reading
More stories from Holly Pheni and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Flower Girl
As we head into the new year, some of you are likely standing at a funeral for your dreams. Last year didn't bring the success or the progress you had hoped. In fact, it brought great loss. You don't feel like a "new you" just because the clocked ticked past midnight. This story is for you.
By Holly Pheniabout a year ago in Poets
Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
Glorious work. More please. Can't get enough of your glorious work. Thank you for being one of the best authors on this platform.
Oh, this is great. Really well done.
Whoaaa, you killed two birds with one stone! Two challenges in one poem, you nailed it! This was so brilliant!
I loved the mash-up!! Very clever :)
Absolutely nailed it, brilliant words