Moaning Myrtle


She flew across
The barren sky
Shrieking her curses
From way up high

Her cackling voice
So crystal clear
Spreading her malice
For all to fear

Vexing each night
With tribulation and trouble
Looking for kiddies
To snatch and gobble

Until the night
She ate the wrong kind
Which seemed to afflict
Her venomous mind

And now she wails
Her moans from the sky
With indigestion so bad
She just wishes she’d die

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Moaning Myrtle


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