Myth of the Cthulhu Monster by Ken Allan Dronsfield

An oak branch danced to a serenaded minuet …
neither wind nor music could be heard as
throbbing hearts were beating like a drums roll.
The Cthulhu monster inhales and shadows bend
all along the high mossy wall of the great castle.
The keep wipes cascading sweat from his brow;
a murder of crows send ‘meet and greets’ as the
the monster of the mythos looks toward the sky
black tea steeps and cream drips slowly from a
silver spoon bequeathed upon his year of birth.
An oak branch danced to a serenaded minuet …
the Cthulhu monster exhales once again, and
dark shadows bend whilst long wailing screams
drift and echo repentant as twilight fades and joins
this black starry night whence a monster walked.
In the light of a flurry of torches, his octopus like
head swung left then right, feelers test the winds,
scales on his manatee looking body reflect colors,
prominent claws on his hind and fore feet dig in
and his long narrow wings fluttering like a fairy.
An oak branch danced to a serenaded minuet …
those in the castle quake and quiver in repose.
The Cthulhu Monster is awake once more.

(Inspired by the writings of H.P. Lovecraft)

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet from Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms! His published work can be found in reviews, journals, magazines and anthologies throughout the web and in print venues. His poetry has been nominated for two Pushcart Prize Awards and the Best of the Net for 2016.

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