Was it you in the Night pacing the Moors so drear;
And rattling the latch on the Windows near?
To shake this old House with your unsettled breath;
A tired restless Shade seeming stirred out of death.
To extinguish all Candles, for life is a flame;
But what is a life to a Spirit in Pain?
And set Creaking old Beams that channel your voice;
To speak of a Love and it's detestable choice.
And was your old temper within the Mad Gale;
That Hammered the doors with a tearful tale
Of a Violent Love that grew in years;
And sentened this Heart to torrent of tears.
For I saw you that time in your deathly cold rest;
Long past was the force that departed your breast.
Now you ride over Moors by a Spectral pale light,
To shake the sad trees and Walls of the Heights;
As I waste upon waste my miserable frame-
In the long fevered hope of a reunion again.
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Author:
Kevin Hulme (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 6th, 2026 20:27
- Comment from author about the poem: Based on Wuthering Heights.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
When I was turning 12, I began reading Wuthering Heights. I would have done so earlier but I was told that it was too "grown up" for a primary school child. Something about the novel stayed with me and that appears to now be revealed and encapsulated in your poem. Perhaps ghost-pacing the moors is a type of thinking/mental-emotional state metaphorised in Cathy, almost a stand in for the insomnia of the mind. But I may fly off on a tangent if I don't stop, if it hasn't already begun.
My first encounter with the Story was the Kate Bush song. I read it last in one of the detestable 'Lockdowns'.
Kudos for reading it at 12. I never got into Books until my late Teens. Thank you for your message and Reading.
Some wonderful lines "And was your old temper within the Mad Gale; That Hammered the doors with a tearful tale" great rhyme as well made this a haunting poem and a fave
Appreciate your Comments and the fave.
I wrote this a few months back. Was never sure of it . So Thanks again. 👍
My pleasure. So many time uncertainty keeps us from posting but as long as one's heart is in it one can not go wrong.
True. I still have Poems from years back sitting around. 🤔✍️
I don't deserve to be here - I knw nothing of Wuthering heights. However I don't really believe you had to tell me it was Gothic...
A creepy write.
Well you made a reply and that's enough for me. 👻👍
What a terrific gothic piece, Kevin. The moors, the old house, the spectral presence, and that desperate longing for reunion all feel steeped in the same storm. Dark, romantic, and beautifully haunted, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for the fave.
There’s a damn haunted-romantic atmosphere here, with the moors, rattling windows, dying candles, creaking beams, and spectral gale making the dead lover feel like he’s still physically haunting the landscape. The final “fevered hope of a reunion again” is what gives all that Gothic machinery its heart—the ghost isn’t really the frightening thing; it’s the living speaker’s inability to stop longing for someone who is already gone.
That's it in a Nutshell. Thank you for Reading this. Appreciate it.
I got the love of a worthless tormenting woman that lingers on after she's gone. Like a ghost that haunts even in spite of the pain.
Interesting you talk about being inspired by Brontë.
My early influences were Dostoevsky, Kerouac, and Henry Miller, so obviously I killed money lenders, bummed around a lot and courted unstable women. Ah youth.
Good write.
Ps, I never killed money lenders, my torment came from other sins.
As of yet: Never got around to Dostoevsky. Read Tolstoy. Kerouac: Read 'On the Road'. Miller: Just Oggled Marilyn.
Appreciate you're Comment. And Reading. 👍
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