Valsa George


The Eerie Little House - Poem by Valsa George

Wandering lonely through the forest track,
An eerie little house, I saw.
Its tiled roof and tall chimney,
Peered through the foliage of leaves.
Pacing down a dark ravine,
I found myself before a latched gate,
With a creaking sound, the latch gave way,
Letting me into a dilapidated house.

Its walls were painted grey and white.
The plaster on them bore cracks and marks.
It stood aloof on a small hillock.
The air around bore a strange scent.
Owls were heard hooting aloud,
Desolate it was with none to care,
Thorny shrubs grew all around,
And tall trees shut it out from view.

Dark and dreary it stood remote,
And I sensed it to be a haunted house.
Peeping down through its splintered door,
I got a glimpse of the dingy rooms,
Old frames decked the walls,
Shield and armour, near winding stairs,
Sultry the air, trapped inside,
The floors covered with grimy dust,
Shadows moved like snakes curling,
And giant bats flew about my head,
Cobwebs hung from the chequered roof,
And strange sounds began renting the air.

I felt a tremor within my brain,
Sparks of fear darted through my vein,
Behind me, I heard a rattling sound.
Turning around, I found the phantom of a man!
Blood curdled within my veins,
My heart ticked off in drumming beats,
My limbs, I could hardly move.
I grimly sensed ‘the Thing' upon me,
It tightened its grip around my neck,
Its sharp claws went deep into my throat.

Ohhh! I screamed a terrible scream,
And found myself lying below my cot! !


Comments about The Eerie Little House by Valsa George

  • Simone Inez Harriman (8/19/2017 1:51:00 PM)


    What a terrible bone shaking nightmare scarily peened so well I felt goosebumps. Bad dreams can seem so frighteningly realistic that makes you wonder when you wake if it was some message or some horrible past life experience. Perhaps it is our inner consciousness giving a clear warning to us or the need to address our fears. Superb write that makes you feel like you were really there. (Report) Reply

    Valsa George Valsa George (8/19/2017 11:47:00 PM)

    Thank you so much Simone for the deep interest you show in my poems and for reading and commenting on many of them. If you could feel the horror of the nightmare, I can conclude that I have been successful in translating my feelings in powerful verse. You are always generous enough to appreciate and encourage fellow poets and I owe a lot to you!

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  • (1/20/2017 11:02:00 PM)


    What marvelous suspense! (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (7/21/2016 6:30:00 AM)


    It stood aloof! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

  • Bri Edwards (2/25/2016 12:37:00 PM)


    “An eerie little house, I saw.” ……I like how you changed the ‘normal’ order of the words/phrases.

    “Pacing down a dark ravine, “
    “It stood aloof on a small hillock.”

    yeah, I guess a small hillock could be down a small ravine. why not?
    [and by definition (I checked) , a “hillock” is a ‘small hill’ or somethin’ in biology, so I guess the hillock was VERY small! ] :
    ) :)
    “Shadows moved like snakes curling” …..like it!

    what was your cot doing in the terrible man’s house? was he there, under the cot, with you?
    lots of nice descriptions! !

    to MyPoemList also.

    I’m glad to see this type of poem (scary?) from you.

    bri :)

    p.s. i see below that Loke Kok Yee is a baby! ;)
    (Report) Reply

  • Madathil Rajendran Nair (2/13/2016 9:43:00 PM)


    A nightmare well narrated. (10) (Report) Reply

  • (10/9/2015 1:32:00 PM)


    I was halfway through your poem and my body was getting cold,
    my hairs were standing on end and I wondered how you can take such fright.
    You build up the suspense so smoothly and well. Thank you Valsa.-10
    (Report) Reply

  • Ovi-enita Odiete (7/15/2015 4:44:00 PM)


    Haha.
    Eerie and suspense filled indeed.
    (Report) Reply

  • Akhtar Jawad (5/1/2015 6:59:00 AM)


    Who can stand before Valsa, when she starts describing whatever it may be. (Report) Reply

  • (8/30/2012 7:43:00 AM)


    I thought like setting fire on the eerie little house and fighting the phantom of the man there for getting into the act of sucking the blood of my favourite poet! Ah it was just a dream of yours! Congratulations Ms Valsa for remembering the whole ordeal.. Many of us cannot recollect like this though many times such ghosts prowl around us in the dark, (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 12, 2012



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