Poem 4 in a series retelling a classic werewolf tale:
Planted Seed of Fear by Michael Doyle Plant the seed The seed of fear As the blood moon rises Evil comes in its disguises The village wills to celebrate While the hunter seeks to invigorate Danced in its moonlit tapestry Fools will have their pageantry But the true hunter knows What lurks within the shadows Dance, dance into the night The things seen are not a trick of the light The warrior takes his guarded stand Unwilling to be tricked by sleight of hand Drink dances around and by the firelight Evil lurks in its second sight (c) July 3, 2020 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved