A Vampiric Mummy On Th' Loose. Part 1. Poem by Michael Gale

The moon was a crescent sliver of crimson orange...
T'was a chilly November night.

The image was of a lone Vampire bat...
In flight, it wavered unsteadily.

Precariously it faltered and teetered uneasily as like an infant
learning to take it's first steps...
Zig-zagging in uneasy paths.

Could'st it have been the Earth's polarity and the newly mis-shapened moon's orbital gravitational pull, unevened only by the Earth's melting Polar caps? ...
The bat alit atop the shoulders of a wandering mummy, lost in the Egyptian sands.

The bat sunk it's fangs into the bandaged jugular, but to no avail...
No pain or screams of shock or terror were realized that darkened lonely fridgid night.

No feelings of sheer terror and fright...
Only one cold and desolate night.

The mummy's shoulder blades seemed to protude and grow out a pair of minute wings...
The ancient dead bandaged mortal Prince seemed to only be aware of it's predicament at the last and saddened instant, beat of th' clock.

'Blood! ' was the only thought absorbed in the dead mummy Prince's head...
For, he now was a true Prince of the undead.

The mummy's wings, now have grown into a magnificant pair of appendages, just a flappin' in the breeze...
Ahead, 'bout a large, city block away.

Seemed to appear, it's first nightly victim...
A women in red, partly shadowed by the darkness, all about.

(Part Two Will Appear, In The Not Too Distant Future!)