Prompt: a poem responding to the question “what haunts you?” and then change the word haunt to hunt.
[I did START this with the intent to follow the prompt, albeit fictionally, but…then it got away from me]
The H(a)unting of Miss Mabel Grey
Her locks so lovely they were oft admired
By passersby, ladies inspired
Yet she often found her fancy tired
So many lads her hand desired
To a humble cottage she retired
Making meal of bread wood-fired
Until the day her mind conspired
To collect from waste piles, undesired
Broken tools, or poorly wired
(For she had earlier inquired
And knew what fix would be required)
She learned the work, daily perspired
Then forth she went, out to get hired
But found her skills were undesired
Frustrated, she left, only suspired
Stopping to pat a neighborly Briard
Smiling at the newborn pups he’d sired
And that is, friends, how it transpired
She resolved to use all she’d acquired
At the time her dear parents expired
To transform a life uninspired
Soon, across her yard they choired
And in blissful slumber, softly respired