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Phantoms of the Moor...

In the mists of the midnight Moor
Are things you don't want to see
They follow you right to your door
I know, they've followed me

I've seen the Hound of the Baskerville
Eyes glowing and all red
It takes all of my trembling will
To come out from beneath my bed

There's ghosts of ladies all in white
Werewolves and vampires too
The mists are hiding all kinds of fright
Believe me, it's all true

Flickering candles borne by witches
Accompanied by cats
They'll curse you with a thousand itches
I know you don't want that

So stay off the Moor during the night
Especially in the mists
Unless you fancy having a fright
Or a vampire's kiss

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
A poem written as a result of a conversation with an English gentleman.
Editing stage: 

Comments

It would be nice to hear from those drowned mariners. They should have a voice in all the spooky things going on.~ Thanks for the read and comments. ~ Geezer.
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