In a far away place at the foot of a tree,
Stood a man with an axe of six foot and three.
At the top of the tree sat a house made of stone,
Within it, four tombs, carved from white bone.
Jack Frost, he burst forth from tomb number one,
And stood there bewildered at the glare of the sun.
Out came Sam Hain from tomb number two,
Crossed his beastly arms and said "who on Earth are you?"
Then out jumped a rabbit from tomb number three,
Who said "I'm the Easter Bunny, Jack Rabbit, that's me!"
Then all of a sudden came a might roar,
And a shake and a rumble from tomb number four.
Out burst a Vampire with fangs made of steel,
Who cowered from the sun for the burning he could feel.
Dressed head to toe in a black velvet coat,
He danced in the shadows with a cackle and a gloat.
The man with the axe brought it back for a swing,
And he chopped and he hacked with all his arms could bring.
The tree began to sway and the vampire hollered,
"We'll meet somewhere quiet, somewhere we're not bothered."
As the tree began to falter, the demons flew away,
On promises to rule this world and fight another day.
They were monsters of an era, unleashed upon the land,
A frightful team of ghoulish fiends together hand-in-hand.
Sam Hain he would be crawling down the chimney Christmas Day,
To terrify the kiddies and take their treats away.
Jack Frost he would be bringing chills to a hot and steamy night,
With people fleeing scared at the icy, freezing sight.
Jack Rabbit he would be stealing all the tricks on Halloween,
Hopping truly madly in delight at what he'd seen.
The Vampire he would rather spend a day upon a spire,
Laughing in the moonlight before the sunshine brought its fire.
But there were days when ghouls of plenty would long for home sweet home,
And soon they would be bored of mischief and long to be alone.
But their tree had long since fallen at the hands of angry villagers,
Never again to rue the night as demons, ghouls or pillagers.
© Mark Rothwell 2014
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Leaking Brain Blues: Poetry Randoms
PoetryOne quiet and lonely night shift, I decided to try my hand at poetry. Eight hours later I had enough to fill a small book! Sadly, that creative streak of 2014 has failed to resurface, but for now, here are the fruits of my labour...
