The Pub Sign!

The Pub sign depicted a horned devil like creature

the exterior had an unwelcome feel

this was the attraction to visitors the weird feature

it certainly had that ghoulish appeal

rumours told of witchcraft and human sacrifice

the entire building was not nice!

 

Sacrificial blood its said was used to paint the sign

implements of torture and knives

adorned dark walls of irregular and uneven design

where a stench of death survives

from every corner there seems some movement

often faint voices in torment!

 

Hooded figures are often seen inside and without

though often considered spectral

stories suggest some are mortal creating doubt

in caves below the cult goes on

the practice never ended the dead cannot rest

and with visitors emotions jest!

 

The village a hamlet lost in a medieval time line

the old pub the central core

the church now a ruin after going into decline

an unexplained fire years before

the pub sign draws your attention like a beacon

causing resistance to weaken!

 

Yet the tourists come in search of its unholy past

even the sceptics leave unnerved

tainted by questions of  its history the legend cast

whatever the truth its observed

that repugnant awareness takes away rationality

that has led to insanity!

 

It start with the first glance of The Pub Sign!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

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At The Local Pub

In the countryside on the towns outskirts

a fine watering hole stands

attracting customers to its glorious fair

like a magnet their drawn

rarely empty people boost the atmosphere

as you enter within here.

 

The staff work so hard always on their feet

a smile often under pressure

the boss and manager Felicity is really kind

bar staff serving drinks

waitresses maneuvering by tables and chairs

missing punters in groups and pairs.

 

From early morning for the breakfast guests

through to the endless carveries

plenty of choices for vegetables and meat

as the chefs beaver away

heading up to the Christmas and the New year

the teams constantly in gear!

 

At The Local Pub.

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 13/10/2013 at 04:17  Leave a Comment  
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In A Village!

A warm afternoon a couple entered a pub

on holiday in a village.

In an ancient land of history Cornwall

on a day of souring heat.

Yet when inside it was cold and dark

the furnishing stark.

 

The landlord was pleasant and welcoming

buying drinks sat at a table.

Other people milled around chatting

this was like an old tavern.

Where once smugglers most likely drank

after a ship they’d sank!

 

Hungry decided to have a nice bar meal

as a menu was in sight.

After ordering waited supping the drinks

putting the glasses down.

When both fell smashing onto the floor

what caused it neither sure!

 

Where they landed and the fluid drained

a big dark stain was visible.

Both overwhelmed with apprehension

as the interior blurred.

A body dropped before their very eyes

hearing faint pitiful cries!

 

Reality returned glancing to slate floor

nothing was to be seen.

Unable to stay in this disturbing setting

exiting in a puzzled state.

Staring in from the cobbled pathway

turned and walked away!

 

Certainly a strange tale for them to tell!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

Published in: on 03/06/2013 at 04:18  Comments (1)  
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Over Night Stay!

It was a chance sighting for her

passing the quaint pub

returning from a job interview

confident it went well

but it was late and she was tired

yet happy and inspired.

 

Needing to have an over night stay

this was an ideal place

no need to deviate her route home

pulled into the car park

entering within the pubs inner core

on polished wooden floor.

 

The atmosphere serene and quiet

soon reaching the bar

enquired about bed and breakfast

to a nice woman there

who said this service was provided

she’d stay here decided.

 

Plain and simple the rooms unique

four-post beds as well

at that moment felt an odd sensation

had supper and a drink

then went up to retire for the night

now it had become twilight.

 

As she got in the bed an impression

like a person was sitting

to sleepy just settled in soft sheets

turning off the small lamp

from the bathroom a shape emerged

towards her it surged!

 

Giggling heard followed by a soft voice

a cold breeze made her shiver

now somebody was beside her face

a gentle pull of the hair

yet was not afraid a female essence

nothing made any sense!

 

The next morning woke with sunlight

through curtained windows

refreshed showered and dressed

early breakfast and tea

enquired about the room and history

a girl had died who a mystery!

 

Leaving contented at what occurred

a touch on her back

quickly turning nobody was close by

needing to find out why

had she been drawn here truth to seek

a lost spirit trying to speak?

 

She knew there must be a return visit!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

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