The Moonlight Mistress

Now close your eyes, and picture the scene
I was holding my breath, not wanting to scream
With the sun going down at the back of the hill
Long shadows were cast, with a short time to kill

There was a breeze that was drifting, cool through the trees
On the edge of the forest, where I was down on my knees
This was the place, knowing what was in store
I knew of the ritual but I’d not been here before

To my right was a valley, and at the end was the coast
To my left there’s a house with the old whipping post
I could see the clouds moving, travelling fast, out of sight
Pulling behind them, the dark, and cold, lonely night

What would take place I would know very soon?
But it would not begin until the light of the moon
Far in the distance I heard the screech of an owl
Dancing on the wind, that sounded quite foul

I glanced at the shadows that were moving about
The moon playing tricks, with my eyes there’s no doubt
I then heard the crack of a twig on the ground
I lowered my head knowing my wrists were still bound

My naked torso had the cold sweat of fear
I knew the Moonlight Mistress was standing quite near
“Lift up your head, Ian” my name slipped from her lip
It was spoken quite slow, and with a whispering hiss

I looked at this phantom and feared what was in store
She looked wicked and evil and bad to the core
It was all hallows night with the moon I could see
She had come for a victim, and I knew it was me

With the wave of her hand my back was to the post
I was standing looking back at this cold, fearful, ghost
The form that captured me was a fearful sight
Her eyes glowing green, and lit up by moon light

The cloak on her shoulders was touching the ground
Blowing in the breeze without making a sound
Her hand was exposed and resting down by her hip
With her long fingers curling, around a leather bull whip

She gave a shriek of laughter as she pulled her hand back
I closed my eyes tight as I heard the first crack
The pain was unreal, as I screamed into the night
I cried out again feeling second stroke bite

All were hard lashes she gave me her best
When I looked down at my body, there was blood on my chest
When the strokes finally stopped, I looked up in fear
I got a surprise, she was standing quite near

“You’ve served me well, Ian, being here at midnight
Now I’ll return your good gesture, and make it all right”
With a wave of her hand the pain disappeared
Along with the cuts, on my chest that I feared
My wrists were now free, and my head feeling light
I looked up in time, to see her fade into the night.

Be Well Ian