Broomhilda and Nightrider Fly Again



The night was dark and gloomy as Broomhilda circled the belfry of the old church.
She landed with a cackle and a lurch.


Her cat, Nightrider, swept by with a brush of his black fur,
As he let out a screech that frightened an old yellow cur.


The sky was inky, and the moon was full.
Broomhilda was wanting a new prank to pull.


Nightrider made a scratching sound on the belfry door.
Inside, the old priest was lonely and poor.


He made his way up the worn belfry steps and opened the creaky wooden door.
In jumped Nightrider, flying past him and onto the floor.


The old priest jumped back, not seeing too well,
As Broomhilda swung on the big tower bell.


It started to peal with a loud and ominous bong.
Nightrider flew around the room and danced as if to a song.


The priest became disorientated with all the noise and motion,
And he slipped in something sticky that he later found was a potion.
(Which, of course, was just another of Broomhilda’s prankster notions.)


Broomhilda with broom in hand, flew into the room wearing her tall black hat with the bright red band.
Nightrider swiftly came to her side looking around anxiously for a box of sand.
(He was a cat after all, the blackest in the land.)


The old priest came to his senses and looked at the pair.
He held up his wooden cross and sent them screaming and flying back to their lair.


© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)


 

         

    

 



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