In the Dead of Night

The cheesy moon shone brightly
In the lazy summer heat.
A comet, fleet and sprightly,
Flashed across the blackened sheet.
The crickets chirped contritely
To the low nocturnal beat,
As her severed head rolled lightly
Down the peaceful cobbled street.
 
Peter Goulding

If you have any comments on this poem, Peter Goulding would be pleased to hear them.