Hallows Eve.
The baying of a hound,
There can still be heard,
Nearby, beneath the gruesome dirt,
Where he was found,
There on the night of eight one
As Hallows Eve had just begun,
Soon the twirling wind it cried,
To tender souls brought fear and fright,
The moonlight deepened darkened night,
Down by the bay of Bight,
Of nightmares speaks the rustling wind,
Of raging superstitions glint,
Then, in the olden days of superstition,
A long, long time ago,
Just a few years back or so,
Someone saw an apparition,
The agony of deaths remains,
Someone in a box of pines,
There forever he reclines.
Very still, with no complaints,
Reluctant visitors approached,
To say their last good bye's
His body, now so still it lies,
Some go near, if they'd be coached,
A forlorn and quiet place of rest,
White washed clammy walls,
Moreover, little boxed in stalls,
With holy water blessed,
However, there alone he laid in sleep,
With folded hands across his chest,
The racing mind gave them no rest,
Fear did haunt their thoughts so deep,
Some friendly soul, whose hand so gnarled and old,
From days work out in the field,
At sundown came, to say a prayer, kneeled,
Then in the dark, about his neck, he felt a hand so cold,
The lid it opened slowly wide, a crack of gruesome creak,
The poor man ran, so far to hide,
So far, they searched, and searched so wide,
To find him took a week,
Other folks had noticed too,
That something was amiss,
This was perplexing like a quiz,
Together huddled to be secure, to see what they could do,
Complaints of creaky sounds,
Furthermore, of lifting coffin lids abound.
For courage, gathered all around,
To see, what could be found?
With trepidation, and, armed with axe,
Surround that very quiet place,
To give, whatever devil chase,
With a flask of rum, they’d their courage wax,
No chance they took, to dark it was to see,
Except the lid when lifted up,
It with a blow the axe did whack,
To set that devil free,
To their surprise it wasn’t Joe,
Who was resting there in peace?
However, just some punk, for tease,
For his life's escape to slow,
He too now rests in peace,
Just underneath of Joe, their friend,
Everyone a hand had lent,
To put away such tease.
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Be always safe,
Karen
fee
Georg
Edwin