Shawn L. Bird

.

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin.

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.

.

Harold was out driving

Along a country lane

The fog was rolling thickly

The moon was on the wane

A crash rang through the forest

As a tree fell on the road

Harold’s heart was pounding

He looked for an abode

There off in the distance

He saw a flickering light

He headed off toward it

While pushing down his fright

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin

The other side is closer

So fear wells from within

.

The walk went on forever

Though it hadn’t seemed that far

Was the light moving also?

Soon he lost sight of his car.

A crunching noise behind him

Made him jump in fear

A huffling breath was panting

The thing was very near.

Harold’s scream rang wildly

As something hit his knees

He fell stumbling forward

Face first on moldering leaves

He fought to look around him

But something held him fast

A voice cackled out of darkness

He feared a die’d been cast

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin

The other side is closer

So fear wells from within

.

‘It’s just a very friendly dog’

Harold repeated to himself

‘Nothing is eating at

My continental shelf.’

He waited for the owner

Of the dog? or wolf? or bear?

Wondering whether he would

Survive to get back there

To find that flickering light

He could make out through the haze

As the something kept on chomping

He then heard through his daze.

“Oi, looky at what I’ve found!”

“Girls see what Blackie’s got!

“A quite live man is lying here

“He’s not yet filled with rot!”

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin.

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.

.

The voice sent shivers through him

As she hauled her Blackie off

“That’s not much man,” another voice

Behind him sniffed and scoffed.

“He’s man enough for what we want,”

The first voice did insist

She hauled him up and leaned in close

Her lips pursed for a kiss.

Harold pulled back in horror

As he gazed at her face

She’d said he wasn’t rotten yet

For her t’was not the case.

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin

The other side is closer

So fear wells from within

.

The cackling hag shook him hard

And turned Harold around

She marched him to the light

As he tripped o’er stony ground.

Although he didn’t tumble

His heart thudded in his chest

And even when he faltered

She didn’t let him rest

“Hurry up you man,” she muttered

As he tried not to fall flat

“We’re almost to your destiny,

Are you prepared for that?”

He wasn’t and he gasped a bit

His heart, it gave a flutter,

“Please don’t kill me,” he begged her

With a pathetic stutter.

She laughed, and others joined in

Hags circled all around

The flickering bonfire crackled

He quivered at the sound.

The beast that followed snuffling

Was sniffing at his feet

And Harold whimpered softly

As he was pushed onto his seat.

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin.

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.

.

He finally saw the creature

That had munched him without care

It was huge with yellowed fangs

It wasn’t dog or wolf or bear.

Harold trembled as he realized

That it was not a beast

But a mangled, damaged human

Looking like Harold’d be a feast

Harold shivered once again

And gazed back to the hags

Who cackled as they stared back

And waved their filthy rags.

“Oh Harry, we are glad you’re here

We need your soul, you see.

The potion that brings back our youth

Requires ingredients three.”

Another hag joined in at that

and added solemnly

We need an arm, a leg” she winked

“And something more manly.”

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin.

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.

.

“When you have sacrificed your parts

You’ll see before your eyes

We’ll all become the beauties

For whom you’ll willingly die.

“Of course, just like in everyday

To hold a gorgeous girl

You’ll have sacrificed your manhood

By giving her a whirl!”

“You can pick whichever one of us

You’ll take home to your mom,

They’ll think you’ve hit the jackpot

And you’re having lots of fun.

“Of course, we’ll know the truth of it

That you can’t quite perform

But you can pretend all you like

And we’ll snuggle and be warm.”

Her coquettish gleam through hollow eyes

Made Harold feel quite squeamish

He didn’t need a trophy wife

He pondered how to vanish.

Then through the woods a booming call

Made Harold feel relief

The girl he loved had felt his fear

And was thundering through the trees.

The hags all scattered shrieking

As Harold’s wife came near,

“It’s time to go to hospital,

The baby’s coming, dear!”

.

This is the time of year

They say the veil is thin

The other side is closer

So fears well from within.

This poem is part of Jingle Poetry’s Monday Potluck:

Hallowe’en / Trick or Treat theme

http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/

Lost in anonymity

flowing in a wretched sea

of tumultuous humanity,

I can’t find me.

.

(spent a few hours in Vancouver yesterday.  A few too many!  Man I hate the city.  So glad to be home surrounded by nature, lakes and familiarity!)

So there she is,

tears pouring down the face, 

having a conversation with an imaginary you. 

There you are, 

Still making observations that

…touch the core of things. 

… Melt with their poignancy.

…Challenge with their truth. 

…Encourage with their tenderness. 

The voices of memory

still real

guiding and teaching.

I think we might as well

give up on waiting for them

to disappear.

The paper strengthens them,

and love echoes through them.

Despite…

well,

you know.