Poetry Friday: Hobgoblins

Six weeks ago, I fell off the Ode Less Travelled wagon, all because of the stupid villanelle exercise. I tried to write one about the equinox, and it was just a misery.

Never one to shy from making the same mistake twice, however, I decided to try again. I meant to write a Halloween poem, but it turned into more of a villanelle for all seasons.
 

Hobgoblins

They come while you’re sleeping,
in the loneliest hour of night—
teeth gleaming, shadows creeping.

From cobweb corners peeping,
itching to claw, hungry to bite,
they come while you’re sleeping,

through your dreams slowly seeping.
They scratch deep within, white
teeth gleaming, shadows creeping

to the soft place you’re keeping
your hopes, hidden, bright.
But they come while you’re sleeping,

so you can’t stop their reaping.
Fearful, frozen, you can’t fight
the teeth gleaming, shadows creeping.

Left naked, raw, weeping,
you can’t sleep again. They might
come back while you’re sleeping—
teeth gleaming, shadows creeping.
 

Well, that was cheerful! Happy Halloween, everyone! Thanks for visiting the haunted house inside my brain!

This week's Poetry Friday round-up is hosted by Poetry for Children.