A Friday The 13th Full Moon #poetry

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A Friday The 13th. Full Moon

A shrill, blood curdling scream invaded the dense nocturnal air.
Lights in the café on the corner blinked a warning of “BEWARE”.
The moon was as full as a pregnant woman ready to give birth--
Round, illuminating the darkness below with a full measure of girth.

The Man in the Moon was absent on this cosmic cast Friday night.
He‘d decided to shake things up a bit on this unusual eve of fright,
for he’s long known that special powers held by this dirge of “she”
was Hell bent on causing havoc and scaring the likes of you and me.

Stolen would be the charm and allure of an ordinary full moon date.
The unwise would not heed this harbinger of doom' til it was too late.
Lovers would embrace not in romantic moments ‘neath its lunar view.
They would instead seek vengeance as lunatic feelings would ensue.

Woe to those who’d be ensnared in moon’s ploy of malevolent fun.
They’d be held captive to her powers in this span of midnight sun.
Long would be told tales of horror from this Friday the 13th eve,
When the “She” got rid of the “He” left leaving those who grieve.

Sheila Bowyer Kline