Batwing Poems - Poems about Batwing

...BAT SONG (This Song was written in 2009 for a dramatised Rap Music & Dance Group in Rural South Africa. They wanted an amusing song with a message incorporating an unusual rural image. It unfortu......Read the rest...

...The sun was rising high in the east over the town of Milton creek It was the eighteenth day of December, the start of Christmas week All the store fronts were decorated; it was a colourful sigh......Read the rest...

...It was about seven in the morn as the sun was starting to rise Unbeknown to the folks of Milton Creek they were in for a surprise Outside the saloon wagons were unloading, before noondays heat ......Read the rest...

...A weird disturbance in the belfry….werewolves or worse? Batwing held on a bit tighter to her bulging old purse. Count Dracula’s red eyes bounced open in morbid surprise. Spooky goblins chasing gho......Read the rest...

...Do come to our symposia , they’re sure to be such fun. First topic for discussion will be campanology. Newcomers will be shown the ropes and methodology. The vicar is providing tea and scones for ......Read the rest...

...When I die take me to Texas And lay me gently in the sand Just dust me off from time to time And softly pat me with your hand Talk to me lowly with that voice That I heard for so many years A......Read the rest...

...I don't care about tomorrow And can't remember yesterday I'm just drownin' here in sorrow Because I lost my love today She told me once she was goin' I didn't think that she would go I stayed......Read the rest...

...An old cowboy still wore his spurs As he entered the cool dark bar. He brushed his jeans of cockle burrs, Waved his hat for a whiskey jar. He looked 'round at the Friday crowd, Smiled and reca......Read the rest...

...Crisp, chilly evening air. Prolonged nights greet silent, pearlescent segments of a far off moon. Fallen leaves scrape, tumble, and wisk down village streets, driven on by phantom breezes. Sol......Read the rest...

...The haze did a dance before the saloon in the ghost town of my dreams; the batwing doors swung a nervous creak, rusted hinges, muted screams. A high noon clock with a warping hand failed to......Read the rest...

...As the darkness reaching out for the darkness, her black scalpel eyes met mine across the crushing divide of a revelling throng. The amateur axe band strangled a bargain basement hard rock so......Read the rest...