Poem: Don't Pass 'Neath the Light

 Don't Pass 'Neath the Light

 

This story is true, as true as can be,

Just listen to me and you will soon see,

I never tell lies about something so real,

It’s scary and eerie, but oh what a thrill,

Imagine a house that is haunted and cold,

Then picture a witch all haggard and old,

She sits on her porch from morning ‘til night,

Just waiting for someone to pass ‘neath the light,

Then one night it happened, I swear this is true,

A lady passed by and said, how are you?

The witch smiled slyly and said, I’m just fine,

Come in for awhile; we’ll share some fine wine,

The lady said, sure, I’d love a small glass,

And that’s when the facts of this tale came to pass,

The door opened wide; the witch pushed her in,

Then followed behind with a wink and a grin,

The lady returned to the town the next day,

She seemed to be fine in most every way,

But sometimes she twitched and sometimes she itched,

And sometimes she looked a bit like a witch,

She started to sit on her porch ‘neath a light,

And watch folks pass by from morning ‘til night,

That’s all that I know, and all that I’ll say,

I’m just a bit leery there might be foul play,

It’s probably best if you stay far away;

I wouldn’t go near, at least not today.

Rita Bourland © 2010