The urn came with the house, they said,
the house came with the urn.
They knew not where the urn came from,
it seemed not their concern.
A set of rules came too, they said,
a set of rules for it,
and all moves made outside of those,
were foolish to commit.
"When carrying the Urn, make sure
it's carried with both hands.
In all regards, by sunset
you must leave it where it stands.
"The Urn, it has no lid and so
it's rim, exposed and wide,
must never once be covered yet
don't dare to look inside.
"when walking in the house when dark,
and carrying a light,
you must not let it touch the Urn,
as long as there is night.
"And if somehow it shatters
after falling from it's shelf,
you must hope not to be there,
when it starts to mend itself."
The Urn sat there for many years,
no dust upon that spot,
the nonsense rules were always kept,
for fear if they were not.
YOU ARE READING
Never told Nursery Rhymes
PoetryAre these the sort of things you like, my dear? the stories and the rhymes that make you shake? are you the sort who seeks darkness and fear? I surely hope you are, for your own sake. In here you'll meet the fear who has a face, in here you'll feel...
