Scary Nonsense
Our tale begins one cold fall night
The still air crisp, the full moon bright
Beyond the fields coyotes wail
Their lonesome calls so long and shrill
They scamper in a busy pack
Until they scent their victim's track
Then off they rush all teeth and tails
And chase their prey into the hills.
Deep in the bowels of a darkened cave
Where werewolves howl and demons rave
There dwells a troll bereft of grace
With knotted joints and sallow face
His grimy locks and pointed ears
Reduce the bravest men to tears
Within his skull his eyes glow red
And, methinks, his name is Fred.
Inside an ancient, twisted, oak
Concealed among its gnarly hulk
A spirit dwells whose wispy shape
Is blacker than a blackened cape
At midnights, when the air is still
It oozes out into the chill
To seek lost souls who can't be saved
And drag them down into the grave
Each night as tots doze in their beds
It silently floats above their heads
But with a sigh it soon moves on
Their innocence is far too strong.
Amidst the gloom of a Black Forest hollow
In murky muck where wild boars wallow
The throaty croak of a forlorn toad
Makes your neck hair stand and blood run cold
A gruesome goblin sits and scowls
To ravens' caws and hoots of owls
In full moon's light with bluish hue
He dines upon a mushroom stew
And when the shrill about him peaks
He deftly turns to you and speaks
While holding up his plate of goo
He asks, Would not you have some, too?
In a churchyard overgrown with brush
Where only bats disturb the hush
Lies the entrance to a marble crypt
Its lintel carved with ornate script
Beneath the vault of crumbling stones
Neglected like its trove of bones
There lurks a zombie vile and pale
Passed long ago beyond the veil
Alive, and yet it does not live
Whose
evil thoughts we must forgive
For solitude can drive one mad
But thoughts alone don't make him bad.
Yes, solitude can drive one mad
Or loneliness might make one sad
Just as it did to little Chad
A boy with neither mom nor dad
Nor siblings with whom he could play
And gaily pass the time of day
He never knew a cozy bed
Warm blankets wrapped about his head
For
Chad
was orphaned as a babe
And raised by skunks in a forest cave.
Chad seldom went out in the day
And learned to like the smelly spray
That kept all enemies far away
As merrily they went bout their day
Chad learned to dig for grubs and worms
Not caring for disease and germs
In fact, he felt it rather funny
When earthworms wriggled in his tummy.
Perhaps it is of no surprise
When long before the sun did rise
Young Chad sat up one chilly night
Awakened by a chigger bite
And as he scratched his heart stopped beating
A shadow among the trees was fleeting
Whose shape he could not quite discern
Causing his curiosity to burn.
He roused the she-skunk from her sleep
And warned he spied a figure creep
"With glowing eyes and fiendish form
We must prepare to spray a storm!"
The she-skunk wearily yawned instead
And patted Chad
upon the head
It's just a deer or bear or moose
Go back to sleep you silly goose!
With eyes shut tight but wide awake
The ghostly image Chad
tried to shake
Restlessly he tossed and turned
As curiosity within him churned
So while the others blindly slept
Silently out the cave he crept
Then breathing deep the cool night air
He quickly sneaked off to where
The form that caused his blood to freeze
Had drifted off into the trees.
A hundred feet from where he stood
Chad glimpsed a faint glow in the wood
And peering as with all his might
He focused on the hazy light
A greenish glow among the trees
As if propelled upon the breeze
It disappeared behind a log
Into a swirling bank of fog.
Chad trailed the shade across a creek
And up a hill quite slick and steep
It came to rest beside a pond
A churchyard standing just beyond
Its iron fence like blacked bones
Enclosed a moonlit sea of stones
And while he watched the shadow slipped
Into a creepy, crumbling crypt.
Behind
Chad
in the underbrush
A sudden snort disturbed the hush
It sounded something like a sneeze
Coming from amongst the trees
Then to his left a horrid wail
Made
Chad's poor heart nearly fail
He barely dared try crane his neck
To spy what might be coming next
The midnight sky was growing darker
Chad hid behind an old grave marker
While clouds choked out the silver moon
He felt a sudden sense of gloom
Preparing for the worst to face
Chad peered out from his hiding place
And saw a creature half his size
With wild green hair and glowing eyes
Walk toward the pond, out for a stroll?
And now Chad
saw, it was a Troll!
The Troll did not seem in a hurry
But stopped when it heard something scurry
Amongst the trees a Goblin darted
Advancing toward the dear departed
And once inside the graveyard fence
The Goblin gave a little dance
It cried again its horrid wail
And made Chad
feel as scared as
Well, I think you know, but I digress
Poor
Chad
was really in a mess.
The Goblin jumped upon a stone
And shouted back, "Hey, little gnome!
You can't catch me now that I'm home free!"
And as the fog around him swept
On nimble legs the Goblin leapt
Into the yawning open crypt where
He joined the souls of those who slept there.
Chad could only stare aghast
At where he saw the Goblin last
Until he glimpsed a gruesome face
Approaching now his hiding place
A Zombie with dark sunken eyes
That looked a little bit surprised
To see brave Chad
alone at night
He realized something was not right
The Zombie crept toward little Chad
Who sorely missed his mom and dad
Such fear he felt, so scared he looked
He knew his little goose was cooked.
Without a word the Zombie placed
A rotting finger near its face
And lightly laid the gnarled tip
Against his ragged upper lip
He whispered, "Hush-up boy! Be quiet! Sit still!
Or you'll be IT, you surely will!"
As soon as these words had been spoken
Chad felt as if a spell were broken
What does he mean, this fiendish freak
Is this some kind of Zombie-speak?
Before young Chad
could further ponder
The Troll toward him began to wander
Zombie pressed him, "Quick, make haste
And leave behind your hiding place!
"Just follow me lest we be caught
Into the crypt you must be brought!"
Instead without a second thought
Chad though to flee that cursed spot
Where Spirit, Goblin, Zombie, Troll
Conspired to snatch his mortal soul.
As Zombie rushed off toward the crypt
Chad turned to flee, instead he tripped
And fell headlong into a hole
Bout six feet deep and black as coal
A grave dug fresh the day before
To bury Old Man Overmore
Would now this pit, this trap, this space
Became
Chad's final resting place?
Strange voices rose above his head
Like grunts and groaning of the dead
As they approached the earthen pen
To seize their victim trapped within
Chad edged into a corner spot
The damp air cool, his breath felt hot
Forcing up his gaze he spied
No where to run, no place to hide.
Because
Chad
grew up in a cave
He normally could be quite brave
But now he felt a rush of fear
The jig was up, the end is near.
(to be continued)