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  Home > Horror > Poetry > Banshee Of The Brook
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Recent poems by
Mr. Ed


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Banshee Of The Brook
By Mr. Ed   

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“I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes,

When it wants to tell us about something that is on its mind,

But can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave,

And has to go about that way, every night, grieving.”

 

Mark Twain

 

There is a place I’ve visited in the northwood

That is haunted by The Banshee Of The Brook

They say she’s been here for hundreds of years

She’s the subject of many an old legend and book

 

Some say she is the spirit of a young Indian maiden

Whose father hid her here during a rival tribe’s attack

Some claim that she is a centuries old pioneer’s widow

Whose brave husband went hunting and never came back

 

Others have claimed that she’s the fiancée of a lumberjack

Some speculate, that her betrothed, is old Pine Needle Ned

They say that she has been waiting here forever, for his return

While he’s been off searching the vast northwood, for his head

 

Whoever she may be, my canines and I saw her one misty night

They began howling, as we watched her flutter about in the trees

But she never even seemed to notice us at all, as she began wailing

I couldn’t understand her eerie words, but I truly believe she grieves

 

I also believe there are many things, which we will never understand

And that both life and death, hold many truly extraordinary mysteries

I’ve seen and heard and experienced many unexplainable things in my life

Some of them are both chilling and sad, as is this tale of The Brook Banshee

 

 

 

©October 2012, Mr. Ed
  
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Recent Poetry by this author.     All Poetry by this author
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