Michael has had many dozens of poems published over the past 20 years, both in North American and in the
UK. He has appeared in such places as The Lyric, The Poetry Porch Sonnet Scroll, and Candelabrum Poetry
Magazine, as well as many others.
UK. He has appeared in such places as The Lyric, The Poetry Porch Sonnet Scroll, and Candelabrum Poetry
Magazine, as well as many others.
Michael Fantina
The Haunted Mill
The shutter raps against the sill,
The shadows lengthen by the gate,
The white owl cries atop the hill,
The air is cold, the time is late.
I stop before the ruined mill
To catch my breath as here I wait,
There's someone at the window sill,
I must be going, it is late.
She waves to me, her fingers long,
And points to graves upon the hill,
I hear her ghostly sad, sad song,
That echoes through the red-bricked mill.
And now the midnight air is chill
I ponder on the scourge of Fate
Would I were far from this dark mill
The time, the time, it is so late!
My heart beats faster as her sighs
Come to me now across the sill
I see the fire in her eyes,
I turn and flee far from the mill.
The shutter raps against the sill,
The shadows lengthen by the gate,
The white owl cries atop the hill,
The air is cold, the time is late.
I stop before the ruined mill
To catch my breath as here I wait,
There's someone at the window sill,
I must be going, it is late.
She waves to me, her fingers long,
And points to graves upon the hill,
I hear her ghostly sad, sad song,
That echoes through the red-bricked mill.
And now the midnight air is chill
I ponder on the scourge of Fate
Would I were far from this dark mill
The time, the time, it is so late!
My heart beats faster as her sighs
Come to me now across the sill
I see the fire in her eyes,
I turn and flee far from the mill.