by Richard Ellis

Created on: October 16, 2009

In the old cemetery Halloween night,
The low moon was full and bright,
But intermittently obscured by thin wispy clouds.
And the great live oak trees,
Which had stood for centuries,
Seemed grotesque in their Spanish moss shrouds.

Three teenage boys on a dare,
At first we had not a care,
As we entered the cemetery's creaky iron gate.
But as we slinked among the stones,

We began to imagine old dead bones
Come to life to chase us to a horrible fate.

Great marble statues abounded;
We felt completely surrounded,
By the risen ghosts of those long ago dead.
Though we knew they were stone,
We three felt all alone,
And their eerie appearance filled us with dread.

The moss hanging in the trees,
When disturbed by the breeze,
Gave impressions of spirits reaching out for us,
Still we knew it was not real,
And we had nerves of steel,
Until an old owl began to kick up a fuss.

Its "Whoooo, whoooo, whoooo",
Seemed to ask "Who are you,
And why have you come to this place tonight?"
Then a cloud covered the moon,
And the owl continued to croon,
The darkness instilled in us a deep fright.

We turned ourselves round,
For the gate we were bound,
As quickly as we could stumble through the dark.
Imagination played its tricks,
On three boys out for kicks,
But they later boasted to friends it was a lark.

Learn more about this author, Richard Ellis.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.