Waking in the night I felt the draught,
cold air on my face and, in the dark,
reluctant to leave the covers warmth I lay
listening. No sound. The house was still.
And, lulled by silence, sinking back in sleep
I dreamt and in my dream I felt
the pressure of a hand upon my leg.
Author notes
Trick
jimmy20johns
A contest entry
- Trick or Treat by Florida Sunshine.
650 points, ended November 6, 16 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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Jeepers
Creepy
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Tricky ... I felt like going to bed again after reading this........ Lovely write can feel the warms and cozness of my bed right here...thanks for sharing .
Love Susan -
Scary thought! To think of something lurking in the dark, as one lets down their guard, just to be surprised by what is there. I enjoyed the imagery used and not used. It's cleverly written allowing the reader to use their own imagination of what is there... what brought the touch.
Nice job -- thanks for entering the contest, I do appreciate the support. I'm sorry for taking so long to judge, I went on vacation. ~ but is back now.
Florida Sunshine
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Excellent imagery! This sounds very good, and I love mysteries like this. Not so in the face, but yeah, most certainly there.
you've described the whole background so elegantly well in such few words.
Thanks for sharing and keep writing! -
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Hi. Many thanks for your encouraging comment - it's really appreciated. Cheers, jimmy
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this has a lovely poignant quality to it, yet employs
a simple mystery, thus leaving it open to all manners of interpretation. I very recently stumbled across your work, and have to say, you write some beautiful pieces -
This leaves a feeling of mystery...definitely an interesting moment. Thank you for your entry.
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Yes, this is very well written
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As always your observation is sharp and your poetry incisive. That this is free verse rather than rhyme seems to make no difference to you. You are a master story teller.
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I love the imagery of this poem, and how the last line startles you because everything above it seems sleepy and dreamy, and the last line is startlingly real.
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You evoke, effortlessly, the solitary sleeper, the time of night when circadian rhythms are lowest and the barriers between worlds are weak. Listening, in the dark, and a ghostly touch. I get a resigned, gentle sadness from this. Definitely a moment in time.
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Hi. Thanks for the kindly comment - and for pointing out the typo. Cheers, jimmy
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mysterious ...
I love the way you just leave us with the image of your last line, without any further information, interpretation, speculation ...
I tend to analyze absolutely everything analyzeable and unanalyzeable ...
it is like sticking a pin into a helium balloon ...but I just can't resist : I must pop up all balloons that come my way ...
it's nice when they're free to soar though ...
and your poem takes us on a delightful dream-journey into the realms of mystery ...
thank you for the ride ...
maa
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Cheers mate. As it happens I too am a nit-picking unraveller. Problem being that most things really worth puzzling about in life (like Time and Art and - well - Life)are an endless maze we really never get to the centre of. Still, even if there's no reachable destination, the journey's always fun!. jimmy
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