Creepy, Dark, Howling 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!