David Harris

Gold Star - 4,611 Points (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

Eyes Of Mr D (Part 4) - Poem by David Harris

Entering the flat
the Constable found no one there.
He searched every room,
nothing, only the fired gun on a note
left on the table.
He had noticed the back window
was left slightly ajar.
He picked up the note
and quickly read it through,
then put it in his pocket
along with the gun.

He smiled to the neighbour
as he left the flat.
He told her to lock it;
Mr D would be coming back.
At the car he got in
saying that,
they had to go back
to the station.

He sat on a bench
near the waters edge.
The white walking stick
resting between his legs.
He could not look at his watch,
as that would give the game away.
A blind man is not supposed to see,
so he had no idea of the time.
All he could tell
that day was turning into night.

He stood up;
he had to stretch his legs.
He moved along to
the bench by the bridge.
The dark waters of the lake,
lapped against the shore.
Then he heard the footsteps
walking across the wooden bridge.
He knew by the sound
they were of a woman’s shoe.

He did not look up
to see who it was,
just listened, as they got closer,
until they were in front of him.
He could now see her face,
under the light of the moon.
Her hair was dark,
and danced on her shoulders.
He wanted to say something,
but though he better not.

The killer could be lurking,
in the bushes somewhere,
waiting for his chance,
when he thought
the coast was clear.
She stopped and stood,
near the waters edge;
she watched the moon’s silver finger
dance on the breeze-ruffled waves.
He sat unnoticed except
for his white walking stick.
The blind could see nothing
at least that is what he hoped
anyone passing would think.

Then from the darkness, he emerged.
A mask of death he wore.
He moved quietly up behind the woman,
extended his hands out to her neck.

To be concluded……


Comments about Eyes Of Mr D (Part 4) by David Harris

  • (6/10/2007 2:08:00 PM)

    Ewww...I'm getting all tingly from excitement! ! ! ! What happens next! ! ? ? ?
    Hugs,
    Dee
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  • (6/8/2007 7:44:00 PM)

    Well now I've no idea where you're headed with this....are they ghosts....oh well, off to five as it just took over twenty minutes to page back to the page this was on.Think I did it the hard way.....This should be a short story, or did I already say that? marci, xo (Report) Reply

  • (6/8/2007 8:21:00 AM)

    You definitely have me at the edge of the cliff here David.......I think your next name is Alfred Hitchcock...heeeee..heeee..heeeee: O) (Report) Reply

  • (6/8/2007 5:15:00 AM)

    You left us in Suspense again... David.. But me thinks there is a twist in the tale yet...10 (Report) Reply

  • (6/8/2007 5:14:00 AM)

    This gets more and more intriguing! ! It's turning into a suspense novel. What will happen now..........omg I can't wait for the next part....

    Love, Fran xxx
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, June 8, 2007

Poem Edited: Wednesday, March 9, 2011


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