At the town of Blackwater

(I had so much fun writing the ‘Playing hide and seek’ poetry a while back based on the fantasy series I’m working on. Thought I’d try a hand at converting another chapter into poetry. I tried to keep the air of mystery. Share your thoughts of what worked or didn’t.)

In the din of night
the buggy approached the town gat slow,
a bulk of a man seated at the reins,
‘Open up,’ he said.
The gatekeeper peered out from a small square
and regarded the two folks seated in the cab
nervous and with darting eyes.
‘What business had you here?’ He asked with a scowl
‘Open the damn gate, Hare!’ Grumbled the driver tall,
‘They are seeking shelter.’
‘But they could be spies!’ Hard spat loud.
‘Open the gate or I’ll mow through it,
I don’t wish to stay out here through the night.’
That’s when the old town gates opened slowly
creaking on its hinges.

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I'm a writer of stories I'd love to read. I dream of being a best-selling author one day, but don't we all? I'd also love to work as a scriptwriter in Hollywood. Dreams that seem impossible really, but I'm gutsy/dumb enough to try. l love all things paper and pen. Believe me, I collect them. I write novels, poems and scripts. I paint. I have two Kindle novels, In Strange Company, and Charming Mr. Stewart on Follow me and my progress on my blog,, on Twitter @evacharya, Facebook 'Author/Filmmaker- Eva Acharya', and sign up for my email.

11 thoughts on “At the town of Blackwater”

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