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The Mystery Of A Yorkshire Moor( C Lynn Brooks and Alan S Jeeves)
The mist hung heavy across the moor
As bleak a scene as ever seen,
My vision only to obscure
A darkness o'er the mossy green.
An inscription scribbled on a door
A tumbled building, haunting, eerie,
Shadows abound so dark and dreary.
What secrets linger cold within?
Centuries of lies here hidden lie;
Baneful days of hate filled sin
As heavy footfall approaches nigh
Pounding down upon the floor.
Panic rises deep herewith
A spectral tale, a ghostly myth.
A story played out long time past,
A veil of fear hung years ago;
But may we see the truth at last?
What answer will the moor bestow?
What mystery has the wind in store?
I guess the world will never hear,
Nor will they ever shed a tear.
Editing stage:
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Comments
c lynn brooks
Wed, 2020-04-15 18:59
Jerry
thank you so much I'm sure alan thanks you as well
Chrys
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author commentGracy
Wed, 2020-04-15 18:54
Highly mysterious poem, with
Highly mysterious poem, with excellent end rhymes. The Yorkshire moors are indeed full of ghostly past buildings or tales. These things still happen nowadays, since I read of a man who walked out on the moors and apparently committed suicide, but not even the police can identify him or if it was really a suicide.
There are Roman ruins under the moors, as well as abandoned factories, homes, etc.
Enjoyed very much, no crits! Thanks for posting this gem for us, Lynn and Alan.
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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury
c lynn brooks
Wed, 2020-04-15 19:01
Gracy
thank you for reading and your comments
you would have to ask Alan about the stories of the moor since he lives there
Chrys
check out our chat room open to all 24/7
author commentGracy
Thu, 2020-04-16 08:08
Yes, Alan has already told us
Yes, Alan has already told us a lot about the Yorkshire moors. He also said the poem was your idea and gives you much credit. It's really good. Will you enter it in any competition?
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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury
c lynn brooks
Thu, 2020-04-16 11:45
gracy
No not at this time
Chrys
check out our chat room open to all 24/7
author commentc lynn brooks
Thu, 2020-04-16 07:28
Alan
It was a pleasure
Chrys
check out our chat room open to all 24/7
author commentGracy
Thu, 2020-04-16 08:14
Tx for filling in all that
Tx for filling in all that information, Alan. I remembered those ghastly murders, but didn't feel in the mood for writing about them, what with all the violence going on with this isolation, especially towards women and children. Yes, the Brönte sisters, of course.
I did mention the recent case of a man who was found dead on the moors, but even the police can't identify him.
Thanks for this wonderful poem and I hope it get's published.
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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury