Phantoms of Folklore

The Phantoms of Folklore (Poem)

The Phantoms of Folklore are many; a legion

These are the legends of the West Indian region

Twisted faces and feet, cursed children of men

These are the infant spirits, each one called douen

One human foot, one cow's hoof hidden under her dress

This is the lady of night: The La Diablesse

A strange tiny critter will grant you much luck

As long as you feed him, this greedy Buck

Look into the liquid mirror with watery depths below

There dwells the vengeful snake woman: Maman Dlo

Evil specters, restless ghouls gather here in glee

They are drawn to the magic of the Silk Cotten Tree

Please beware of those who stare from within the wall

The Duwende lurks there plotting and scheming for all

This is the night to masquerade, this is good old Halloween

But someone rises from her grave, she wants to be crowned Queen

When Christmas comes, the living rejoice and make a merry feast

But the restless dead want to live again and are not joyful in the least

So read on curious soul and ponder a tale or two

The Phantoms of Folklore have been waiting for you