The last several nights here in England’s East Anglia have been dark, rainy affairs in which the combination of heavy downpours, complete cloud cover, and lengthening Autumn nights have almost drank the light from the atmosphere. Even car headlights don’t seem to fully break through the gloom. The roadside becomes an eerie enclosure in which one can only imagine the fear and apprehension of our ancestors as they struggled through these lonely Brecks, Fens, and Broads. Things are damp and uninviting, darkness tugs at the primeval fears of the unknown. These conditions have inspired the following Etheree poem.
Light Nowhere To Be Found
I’m Trapped In My Ancient Fear
Nocturnal Spectres Do My Mind Fill
No Stars Or Moon To Give Me Comfort
Terrified Of What Eludes My Senses
An Etheree poem form has ten lines in a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllable pattern.
Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, October 1, 2019: Write anything around the theme or words: Trapped in my ancient fear