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Post by Elle Rush on Sept 2, 2007 16:32:50 GMT -5
For the Haunted Community poem, everyone add-a-line, dark or Halloween themed, of course!
I'll rattle the first line out of my bones here:
The dagger-pointed iron gate creeked open; an omen
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Post by Elle Rush on Oct 1, 2007 12:36:17 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creeked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear,
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Post by AquarianM on Oct 2, 2007 1:31:21 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creeked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon,
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Post by Elle Rush on Oct 2, 2007 10:35:39 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creeked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon, Swaying trees, dried leaves and unknown things crackle with each step,
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Post by Ken Corbett on Oct 2, 2007 14:17:21 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creeked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon, Swaying trees, dried leaves and unknown things crackle with each step,
Deep fog lay in blankets along the twisting path
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Post by AquarianM on Oct 2, 2007 21:47:10 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creaked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon, Swaying trees, dried leaves and unknown things crackle with each step.
Deep fog lay in blankets along the twisting path, Little chittering leaf rustles rush about when the wind stops its howl,
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Post by Elle Rush on Oct 4, 2007 9:26:30 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creaked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon, Swaying trees, dried leaves and unknown things crackle with each step.
Deep fog lay in blankets along the twisting path, Little chittering leaf rustles rush about when the wind stops its howl, brooding bats flitter and squeak as they circle above
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Post by AquarianM on Oct 6, 2007 3:39:07 GMT -5
The dagger-pointed iron gate creaked open; an omen we approached with cautious fear, Eyes filled with tombstone sillhouettes backlit by an angry red moon, Swaying trees, dried leaves and unknown things crackle with each step.
Deep fog lay in blankets along the twisting path, Little chittering leaf rustles rush about when the wind stops its howl, brooding bats flitter and squeak as they circle above, Scattered by a hot smoking and sparking broom trail across the blood-faced moon.
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