A Country Girl's Writing

High above the misty mountains  Beneath the creeping, looming sounds. Hideous monsters prowl around, In a grim, gruesome battleground. A lethal monstrous place to roam For any human that I know.  You'd never make it out alive Unless you know the Shiverouse tribe. The Shiverouse you can not trust; Bury you while you still converse, And if you become their ally Yes, even then, you still might die.  If you did make it through alive  You'd wonder quite how you survived. The Shiverouse tribe has wiped you brain, So that others you might not train.  This place will haunt you all your life, Bringing nightmares each day and night.  No one that lives is e're the same Once they've stepped foot in that dreadful place.  By Evelyn Creon

I had a blast writing about a real place with a fictional twist.  Beneath the city of New Orleans, At the mouth of the Mississippi, Lies a connection of tunnels Beneath its cobblestone streets. They are rough and rocky, Dark, damp, and scary. They run for many miles and are full of possibilities. They can lead you to the bayou, To the river, or the street. Even to the graveyards, Where the dead sleep. At night they're used by thieves, And tourists by day. The underpass, is a chilling place to stay. Snakes and rats like to play In that dirty, damp place. It's a tourist attraction, A destination for the weak. It's full of many secrets That have never seen the sun. So they will lie covered In the deepest pits of mud. Tales of hidden treasure, Concealed by robbers Who never made it out alive. Are stories for the fools. A passage way for slaves Who fled from their masters. The tunnels were a path Of liberty and freedom. Murders old as tim...

Cut out of edges rough A little hope, the gem was caught.  Just enough to light a spark To ignite a flame in the dark. By Evelyn Creon   

Sorry for the super late post. The weather and internet have not been in the best of shape.   In a basket Resting on the floor Lies a little baby Peacefully asleep. Warm and cozy, In sweet dreams. While snowflakes Fall outside in heaps.   B y Evelyn Creon

To have your heart broken By someone you love They have to drop it From a high place above. Let it fall without a care As they watch it fly through the air, and shatter like glass Beneath them. Then they have to leave it, For you to recover. while it take you years To piece it again together. By Evelyn Creon

Your voice is like no other That I have ever heard. It makes my heart beat faster With every single word. Your eyes don't get me started They are so deep and blue. They seem to see right through me My new found fear, it's true. Your hands they make me happy To see them in dirty shades. Knowing because you work hard You earn a decent wage. Your character is soft Yet strong and courageous too. Your loving to the children In most all the things you do. Your flaws while there are many So copious, I can't count. Represents frailty making you human no doubt. Though it may seem silly Maybe a tad bit immature. I love you whole hearted, Giving me joy to endure. By Evelyn

Passion was what pushed her Too fulfill her dreams. The love of the thing she did Made her success and fame. She really didn't want All the popularity. What she really wanted Was to brighten someone's day. By Evelyn Creon

Sliver dipped moon-beams  Carved in plated blade cuffs, Trapped in a trunk Full of antique stuff.  By Evelyn Creon

I have often left my perch  Just to sing a note. So to let it fly  Throughout all the earth  To spread a tone of truth.  By Evelyn Creon

The sunset in the sky  Is dreamer than most. With it's pastel colors  Sinking slowly  Past the coast. By Evelyn Creon

Another dark poem. Written a couple weeks ago.  I felt the breathe and presence Of something dark and dirty. It sent a frozen chill Up my heated body. I shivered in the cold That bit me in the back, and whispered in the darkness, "Please, give me one last chance." I there than became aware, Rime fingers on my shoulder. I tried to move away They grasped me much harder. The warmth in my body It slowly diminished. As I stood there by myself Ice forming on my body. I endured the ice crawling, Descending my arms and legs, Taking lastly my heart. That's when it stopped beating. When the ice ceased crawling It's sweet, eerie, voice said "Ice is a pleasant color To look at upon your head. " No longer could I answer, Nor could I cry-out in pain. I stood there dead, with dread Frozen upon my face. By Evelyn Creon

This poem was inspired by the myth of the Grim Reaper. He is know for collecting the souls from people when their time is up.   I saw a figure  Descending down Upon a feeble body; Reaping 'way life  With it's own breathing.  That foul figure  Paralyzed me, Into a macabre fear That stiffened me, While it disappeared.  The feeble being That I had seen  No longer was it breathing  The figure, a brute, Took life an' now me.  By Evelyn Creon

Leaves on the ground, Leaves on the trees; All in a colorful display, A splendor, an' array.  Red an' yellow, for apples That rest upon the ground.  Orange, for pumpkins  All carved, an' round.  Amber, for spiced cider  A yummy warm, refreshment.  Brown, for the acorns   That we turn into decor.  The colors they're lustrous, A beauty to the eye.  The colors of autumn  That fill the October sky.  By Evelyn Creon

Don't be afraid  Of the dark of night.  It's only dark because Of the absence of light.  By Evelyn Creon

Inspired by a summer evening.  Shh! Listen to the music Directed by the crickets.  They're singing symphonies  In the evening light, If you care to listen.   By Evelyn Creon

Image flashed fore me, I closed my eyes tight.  Darkness settled in With it brought, inept sin.  I cried, "Not again,"  My eyes began to burn  From a fire within,  "I can't look again."   I opened my eyes, The image it was gone, Far from my eye sight.  I could breath once again.  In that dark evil place, The sun began to show 'baft a mountain peek It did begin to grow.  Tears filled my eyes  Once again I denied  Undeniable sin  That tried to rule my life. By Evelyn Creon 

Allergies, allergies go away, I don't like you today. You cause sore throats,  Runny noses, Red eyes,  And sneezes galore.  Allergies, allergies go away, Come again another day.  By Evelyn Creon 

Our country's bird, A beauty it be; It stands for The stars and stripes, Of liberty.  By Evelyn Creon 

This poem was inspired by a prompt I read about writing a happy poem.  Your smile is sunshine, Fills the whole room. It's beam so bright  It touches the moon.  Your jokes bring joy  To those who don't laugh. Your friendliness  Brightens everyone's path.   By Evelyn Creon

To all the people who understand what it's like when you lose your blanket at night.  Tossing and turning, Around I wrapped A big thick blanket Behind my back. It got so hot, I wiggled and thrashed Kicking the blanket Off my bed. As I slept hours past, Then midnight's roar Scared me half to death, And my body felt frore. I bolted straight up And fumbled around In search of my blanket Blue and round. Yet I felt nothing.  Reaching out my hand It gripped only air, I was getting mad. I got out of bed I stumbled and fell Crashing to the floor How fatal it felt. that's when I felt it So soft and torn It felt so nice though it was old and worn. To tired to move Broken and sore  I fell asleep On the floor. by By Evelyn Creon