Supernatural Friday: Night of the Crimson Moon

This an original poem by Pamela K. Kinney and copyrighted to her. Do share the link so others may find it to read.

Night of the Crimson Moon

Darkness roamed that night,
A cold, oily shadow
Pausing, it sniffs the air
Searching, searching,
For the sweet scent of children.

Freed from the bowels of the earth,
Where it slept for a hundred years
Waiting for that one special night--
The night of the crimson moon.

The ominous moon hung low in the sky,
Seemingly hungry as the beast
Prowling the skies for innocent stars,
Not unlike the monster
Who hunted for human prey.

But some sixth sense told the people true,
Keep the little ones indoors,
And keep watch so that they didn't stray outdoors.
Various protections at locked windows and doors,
Just might keep out those not allowed in.

When a blushing dawn danced over the horizon,
One touch of warm, golden finger  of the sun
And the creature recoiled.
Chased away, it bolted for its lair of darkness,
Back to sleep for another hundred years.

Maybe, just maybe,
When the crimson moon night came around again
Humankind might forget,
That the night holds more than the darkness
And a plump child would fill the hunter's belly.