DOWN BY THE DINGLE
Foxglove plants withering,
A fetching sight has them retching on this night.
Wolf fangs devouring coughed up guts.
They hide in the shrubs,
Waiting with celerity for Aurora.
With a giggle,
They hop down to the dingle.
Reflections in the water show the ugly side of loneliness.
When the aurora has come,
The ether looks dazzling.
There is a serpent cowering before them.
The dawn is oddly tenebrous.
In the far distance,
A siren sings of lost lands and forbidden secrets.
These secrets threaten to incinerate the woodlands.
On this luminescent morning,
A banshee is conjuring an eerie caterwaul.
Courtenay S Gray is a 21-year-old writer from the North of England. She believes that writing is her life's purpose. Ink runs through her veins and she sees inspiration in her sleep.