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Sheila Roy

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Member Since: Oct, 2007

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Books by Sheila Roy
Why Banks Close at Night
by Sheila Roy
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Sheila Roy
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Here's my theory about banker's hours.

Author's note: Anne Boleyn was King Henry VIII's 2nd wife. I'm a big fan of Showtime's 'The Tudors', so I couldn't resist the references.

 

 

 

 

Why Banks Close at Night

 

Round about midnight, on All-Hallows-Eve,

I saw some things you would never believe:

Bones rose from the graveyard’s dust and debris

Eerie voices rang from the Hangman’s tree

Gangly bodies formed without flesh or soul

Skeletons marched, eye sockets black as coal

Dead pirates searched for their missing ships

Jack O’ Lanterns wished for razor-sharp lips

Haggard, old witches flew by on their brooms

Mummies slipped out of their booby-trapped tombs

 

The streets were crowded with ghouls and goblins

Brainless zombies drooled from their crooked grins

Ghosts rejoiced in whichever form they took,

Moaning and groaning till the whole town shook

T’was certain madness – this magic of old;

Macabre sights that made my blood run cold!

 

Despite my goose-bumped flesh and tingling spine,

I realized the dead had formed a line

The gruesome parade had swarmed on the bank

Stopped by thick glass, like water in a tank

Though supernatural freaks of the night,

None could pass for security was tight

Frustrated hands pulled at hair and raked skin

The pirates swore they’d find treasure within

 

A breach – seconds only, but time enough

Pirates cheered and gave their stogies a puff!

Ghosts, zombies and witches poured through the door

Werewolves pushed past other creatures of lore

Bones were rattled, and dire warnings were read

Poor Anne Boleyn carried her bloody head!

 

The pirates held employees at swords’ hold,

Cursing and growling, “Oy! Where be our gold?”

 

The workers stood shocked; completely in awe,

All but the one crushed `neath a werewolf’s paw

That one squirmed while screaming “Bloody Mary!”

The rest of us stayed alert, but wary

For the pirates were quick to lay their claim

“We hunt for one man, and ‘ere be his name.”

Gold Digger was printed across parchment

“We knows he be ‘ere, we followed his scent.

No coin or paper can disguise his trail.

Arg! His be the coffin we came to nail!”

 

They searched desks and set cabinets ablaze,

Till one pirate shouted, “‘Ere his name lays!”

Indeed Gold Digger’s name was scratched in stone

Mistakenly, he’d robbed the bank alone

 

One girl’s complexion had gone pasty-white!

In a shaky tone, she described that night:

The stand off, the guns, and all the cursing,

Gold Digger filled with holes beyond nursing

 

This wasn’t a group that shrunk from a threat

They insisted that their demands be met

And since Gold Digger was nowhere nearby;

Already the bank was one demand shy!

That left one more reason to point a sword

“Oy! Plunder the treasure!” one pirate roared

Soon checks and bills, and promissory notes…

Were skewered by steel or cached in their coats

 

The fun ended when the bank was picked clean

The girl’s pasty face leaned more toward green

Secured by ghosts, she still managed to state,

“Like Gold Digger, you thieves have sealed your fate.”

And then gunshots made a maze of the place,

Though bullets passed through mist without a trace

Ghosts dissipated, and witches took flight

Werewolves dodged lead and leapt into the night

Ghouls, goblins, and Anne Boleyn with her head,

Scrambling on his knees behind her…that bastard she had wed!

Pirates dragged booty onto ghostly ships

Each winked at the girl with the white-green lips

 

The night masked the guilty, and the room cleared

All those without a pulse had disappeared!

 

Bullets littered the floor, and tellers cried;

One rolled in a ball with nowhere to hide,

Till from out of that ball she rolled and said,

“I’ve had it with ghouls, pirates and undead!”

Her makeup was streaked, and she was bone-tired

She knew of a place where she would be hired,

So out the door she darted; no glance back

Didn’t that door call, once opened a crack?

Two or three others muscled for the door,

Fed up with visits from creatures of lore

 

The bank owner fumed; the money gone

Had they been closed, with security on,

The ghostly crew would’ve never gained entry

They would have swallowed their urge for envy,

Because all knew how much they liked to scare;

It’d be no fun without the tellers there!

 

A board meeting was called, and all agreed

Closing the bank after dark – a done deed!

 

Now…not that night, but each night thereafter

From far away came the pirates’ laughter

We heard witches’ cackles and werewolves’ howls;

(Sounds that must have originated from the Devil’s bowels!)

 

They had new haunts; they’d grown bored with the bank

Dodging bullets got old, and tear gas stank

Their new haunt is a rickety cabin

Room aplenty for each ghoul and goblin

Werewolves have a decent view of the moon

Pirates mix ale with an out-of-key tune

Vampires still leave marks like sap on a tree,

And the zombies still wander stupidly

Celebration all night, till dawn’s first wink

Then all grows quiet as the sky turns pink

 

And so it happened; custom set in stone

And sure enough, they left the bank alone

No more scared tellers and stolen dollars

No more wild groaning or eerie hollers

The customers’ money was safe and sound;

Of no interest to the Devil’s Hellhound

 

Business flourished, and the board members beamed

Their pockets were lined green and their bling gleamed

They discovered new disappearing acts:

Loans outlined in tiny bold-printed facts

Crazy rates and imaginary fees

Special offers and incentives that tease

 

They say the vampires and pirates are gone…

But I say they open their doors at dawn!

 

 

 

Copyright Jan. 2010 ~ Sheila Roy

 

 

 

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Reviewed by Elizabeth Russo
How perfectly imaginative! You write with such a smooth flow from line to line without missing a beat on your story-telling. Loved this piece and I am particularly fond of the line "Scrambling on his knees behind herÖthat bastard she had wed!"...it's wonderful to see old Henry crawling! ;) Loved it! ~Hugs, Elizabeth
Reviewed by Kate Burnside
BRILLIANTLY told and so handsomely written, Sheila. My goodness, this is epic work! A masterful spin and a modern-day monster-tale that is sadly NOT a modern myth! I applaud you in this - your rhythm, metre and rhyme is flawless, wonderfully sustained and unravels its grisly contents with all the effortless finesse of a skilled orator. Excellent stuff.
Reviewed by Phyllis Jean Green
What a creative Halloween piece!!

Images absolutely rock, and. . . e v e r y aspect of this

brilliantly thought-out and highly original gift that you

have thrilled&chilled us with.

T H A N K . Y O U !!

XoX Phyllis Xox
Reviewed by Jeanette Cooper
Shelia, this is great and sounds like Allhallows Eve at the bank. A touch of cynicism and humor all rolled into one.
Reviewed by Richard King
Wow!!! Iím awed. Count me as a new fan. Iím a former banker who agrees wholeheartedly with these hypotheses. You need a roster to have any hope of determining who the bigger crook is. Absolutely love your work. Dick
Reviewed by Victoria's Poetry & Voices of Muse
I must say I agree!!
Then Greedy *astards!!
Now let me say too:
your reading flow to this story poem was supurb!!
Creatively Ventured!
Love & Cash Flow :)
Yes!!---> Cash Is King!! :)
Vickie
Reviewed by William Bonilla
Excellent piece Sheila
Love & peace be with you

William
Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
Wow, this is quite a tale! And I always like it when the ending is true!Patrick
Reviewed by Dawn Anderson
Sheila, you are so creative and write a tale with such skill...loved the ending to this!
Reviewed by Amber Moonstone
Sheila, I enjoyed this fantastic write of ole times...You have such a keen ability to captivate your reader with the most tiny details that create extraordinary visuals.
Nicely done, my friend, you should turn this into a short story!

Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Reviewed by John Flanagan
Sheila,
This is just so good with striking detail and the perfect atmosphere for the whole theme...I love it!

John
Reviewed by George Carroll
Where's the wheel barrel I just bought a loaf of bread but can't carry all those worthless greenbacks. Great peom. Loved it.

George C.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Price
lol. Vintage Sheila Roy. I love it. And the ending is wonderful. Brilliant. Liz
Reviewed by E T Waldron
Wow, Sheila, such creativity! Fantastic!
get it published!
Reviewed by steve Chering
Quite a tale. Long and longer it gets as it goes down the page,,and better and better it gets as you go,
steve
Reviewed by richard cederberg
You are creative Sheila.
Delighted in this rhyming tale.
Blessings ...
r
Reviewed by Felix Perry
Love this eerie tale of bloodthirstiness...
fee
Reviewed by Regis Auffray
That is some epic poetic tale, Sheila. As well, I appreciate the witty, meaningful theme. So well done! Love, hugs, and best wishes to you,

Regis
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