THE HAUNTING
| The mountains in the Autumn When the leaves are turning gold Have a beauty so entrancing It is treasure to behold But the locals have a legend That unnerves me even still It tells of an old mountain man They refer to as 'old Bill'. Old Bill was superstitious And paranormal things he feared But when he claimed he'd seen the devil Next night he disappeared. The old man was respected He was as solid as a rock But as he described the 'devil'. He was in a state of shock He said the 'thing' had cloven hooves And horns upon its head And as he told his story He shook in very dread Each time I heard the legend I'd feel a ghostly chill For it happened many years ago But the old man's missing still They searched the hills and valleys But the only thing they found Was the outline of two cloven hooves Embedded in the ground Dad owned a cabin in these mountains Near a clear and shady stream I would stay there on occasions When I was just a teen The cabin's very ancient And though it's such a precious sight It has no electric heating And has no electric light Though there is no power connected I found this no torment With just a fireside and a lantern I was quite content It was late one Autumn evening When everything was still My thoughts became enchanted With the legend of old Bill I had a friend there with me We were both aged fourteen years And in this old log cabin We felt like pioneers But when I told him of old Bill He didn't say a word So I told him lots of stories Of other ghostly things I'd heard I'd made a terrible mistake That cannot be denied After one hour of these stories We both were terrified Time approached the witching hour When the wind became a gale And as it sped between the trees It made a haunting wail The lantern light was dwindling Then suddenly it died And I couldn't light the thing again No matter how I tried Shadows from the flickering fire Danced across the room Their eerie fingers seemed to warn Of some impending doom A dark cloud covered up the moon The night was now pitch black And then the wall resounded To a very solid whack There was a scrambling and a coughing noise That made me feel real queer I knew the hair upon my neck Was standing up with fear My frightened friend gave out a yelp He could not stand any more With a sudden dash he left me He bolted through the door It was just imagination But now I was alone The creaking cabin timbers Seemed to make a mournful groan Most Mountain men are drinking men There is no doubt of that So dad kept a stock of liquor For when they stopped by for a chat It's a mountain man tradition That I have gladly shed because every drop of alcohol Goes straight to my head I tried to laugh my fear away And treat it as a joke But my hands were really trembling So I poured a rum and coke I started to feel calmer 'Til a bump came at the door So I quickly grabbed the rum and coke And poured about six more My vision became hazy As I stumbled to my bunk My legs had gone all wobbly For I was slightly drunk I glanced out of the window And I got an awful fright A head with horns was peering back And its face was ghostly white I had taken just a fleeting glance But it was now a certainty It was the same 'thing' that had taken Bill And now was after me Just then I heard four cloven hooves I thought, "heck! This is great!" The devil's out there lurking And the bugger's brought a mate They were taking very tiny steps As small as they could be But I knew their dark intentions They were sneaking up on me I grabbed the fireside poker It seemed like a nightmare dream Though I meant to go down fighting I felt a sudden urge to scream The ceiling creaked above my head And this now gave me proof. The devil had more helpers And some were coming through the roof A curlew's mournful wailing Had a haunting, sobbing cry. It was crying out its sadness That I was going to die As the wind rushed through the gum trees It added to my fright I could hear the branches Whispering "You're going to die tonight!" With another bump upon the door All my courage fled I scrambled back across the room And watched the door with dread The door just had a wooden catch But now that catch was loose I imagined all the ghostly things That doorway would produce The door was slowly opening I felt a tightness in my throat Then standing in the doorway Was the cutest little goat He didn't like the chilling winds He wasn't very old He'd been butting at the cabin To get in from the cold He hadn't meant to frighten me He had just one desire He quickly walked across the room And stood beside the fire I fed him lots of carrots I tried to be the perfect host My fears had quickly vanished I dearly loved my little 'ghost'. I don't know where he'd came from Or the places he had been But with his little, white, angelic face He's the cutest goat I've seen That little goat had taught me How scared a soul can be And when I left that cabin That goat came home with me For years he kept me company As we'd wander 'round our farm His little face of innocence Contained a special charm Now I have children of my own The story they love most Is how their dad was frightened By a friendly little ghost K.D. Abbott © 2008 |
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