Treochair Poem☘️ No.6 – Haunted House in the Mist

#treochair #irish

The banshee's
blood-curdling cries cut the air 
as her soulful sobs and pleas.

Fall on ears 
that are defiantly deaf 
dreading death until mist clears.

Day dawns, dark 
night and it's phantom fears 
pass 
by, with a dog's cheery bark.



©🦊VixenOfVerse, 2023