Stone Garden

Stone Garden

By Ron McCalip

I lie in a stone garden

With granite over my head

It’s oh so very quiet here

There’s little gossip amongst the dead.

Moss and turf they blanket me

As I lay sheltered from storm

Bindings all so comfort me

Yet they seldom keep me warm.

I slumber now eternal

My putrid corpse a rotting.

Handsome only in a dream…

I hear the Devil plotting.

The battle's far from over.

Tis a war of which I’m done.

My soul’s what stands on trial now

For chances, I have but one

My defense must be perfect

An acquittal, there'll be none.

I await my fate alone.

With my corpse, the sky and stone.

The days and years, they fast fly by

These old bones, they do but crumble

Still now, my soul awaits the judgment day

Till then I can’t even mumble!

I lie in a stone garden

With granite over my head

It’s oh so very quiet here

There’s little gossip amongst the dead.

Ghost House

Ghost House

by Robert Frost

I Dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the cellar walls, And a cellar in which the daylight falls, And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow. O'er ruined fences the grape-vines shield The woods come back to the mowing field; The orchard tree has grown one copse Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops; The footpath down to the well is healed. I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart On that disused and forgotten road That has no dust-bath now for the toad. Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart; The whippoorwill is coming to shout And hush and cluck and flutter about: I hear him begin far enough away Full many a time to say his say Before he arrives to say it out. It is under the small, dim, summer star. I know not who these mute folk are Who share the unlit place with me-- Those stones out under the low-limbed tree Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar. They are tireless folk, but slow and sad, Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,-- With none among them that ever sings, And yet, in view of how many things, As sweet companions as might be had.

Dear Ancestor-

Dear Ancestor

by Anonymous

Your tombstone stands among the rest;
neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
on polished, marbled stone
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn
You did not know that I’d exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
in flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
one hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
and come to visit you.

The Veil is Getting Thin-

The Veil Is Getting Thin

by Anonymous

As I went out walking this fall afternoon,
I heard a wisper wispering.
I heard a wisper wispering,
Upon this fine fall day...

As I went out walking this fall afternoon,
I heard a laugh a'laughing.
I heard a laugh a'laughing,
Upon this fine fall day...

I heard this wisper and I wondered,
I heard this laugh and then I knew.
The time is getting near my friends,
The time that I hold dear my friends,
The veil is getting thin my friends,
And strange things will pass through.

The Ghoul

The Ghoul

by Jack Prelutsky

The gruesome ghoul, the grisly ghoul,

without the slightest noise

waits patiently beside the school

to feast on girls and boys

He lunges fiercely though the air

as they come out to play,

and grabs a couple my the hair

and drags them far away.

He cracks their bones and snap their backs

and squeezes out their lungs,

he chew their thumbs like candy snacks

and pulls apart their tongues.

He slices their stomachs and bites their hearts

and tears their flash to shreds,

he swallows their toes like toasted tarts

and gobbles down their heads

Fingers, elbow, hands and knees

and arms and legs and feet-

he eats them with delight and ease,

for every part's a treat.

And when the gruesome grisly ghoul

has nothing left to chew,

he hurries to another school

and waits. . . perhaps for you.

Shadow Dragon - by Sloane Jensen

Shadow Dragon -  A Poem About Evil

© Copyright by Sloane Jensen 2007

The silver moon is full,

the far-off stars are bright,

yet deep is the darkness

of this silent night.

Dark clouds suddenly form,

hiding all the light.

Sinister shadows fall,

obscuring all from sight.

Then, cloaked in blackness,

something evil comes fourth.

As heartless as a stone,

and as cold as the north.

It rises into the sky

on great silent wings,

gone to spread fear and death

among all helpless beings.

Its true form can't be seen

by any human eye.

Except maybe in the end,

when it is time for us to die.

It has always been with us,

ever since the day of the Fall.

Lurking within the shadows,

seeking to claim us all.

It is continuously watching us,

and our darkest desires it learns.

Sharing with us its agony,

because its soul forever burns.

The shadow dragon is just one

of its many twisted forms.

It can be a devil too,

with razor-sharp black horns.

Its name is legion

and it has many faces.

It schemes and plains

in all dark places.

It hungers longing

after human life.

It smiles gleefully

at human strife.

It lurks deep within

every human heart.

Waiting for the chance

to tear our souls apart.

Its own ugly heart is full

of greed, spite, and hate.

It wants to take us with it,

and all together share its fate.

If it weren't for the love, bravery,

and kindness we try to show every day,

it would have long ago put our world

under its cruel and brutal sway.

Some of us will pray and fight,

turning our hearts again toward the Light ,

when the dread shadow dragon comes

silently out of our soul's dark night.

But some of us will bow before this Beast,

and sit with him at his unholy feast.

Raising blood-filled glasses with a grin,

to toast a world of madness, chaos, and sin.

The Mermaid’s Song

The Mermaid’s Song

October 15, 2012

© Copyright 2012 Ronald McCalip. All rights reserved.

A lonely little fisherman sat upon the shore

Sad because he had no wife at home, to keep the fires warm.

One evening he sat upon the rocks. So sad, he could not sleep.

Then he heard the Mermaids song arising from the deep.

Oh lonely little fisherman

Come make me now your bride

I can make you very happy

In a house beneath the tide.

The Mermaid was very pretty, with skin of purest white…

Her hair was soft and golden brown, her eyes were bluest bright.

Modestly clothed by seaweed and kelp, her figure was pleasing yet strong

But her most enchanting aspect twas, that of her bewitching song!

Oh lonely little fisherman

Come make me now your bride

I can make you very happy

In a house beneath the tide.

Oh a bonnie lass you’d make, my love! My chest would swell with pride!

Alas I canna’ live and breathe beneath the oceans tide!

Surely that would kill me and put me in my grave.

He started then to weep, because he did not feel so brave.

Oh, lonely little fisherman

Come make me now your bride

I will make you very happy

In a house beneath the tide.

Perhaps ye can come up topside, and stay to make my croft a home

While I am out to ply my trade, in my boat upon the foam.

Oh no! That won’t happen! My true love could never let that be!

For my home and my one love, shall ever be at the bottom of the sea!

Oh lonely little fisherman

Come take me for your bride

I will make you very happy

In a house beneath the tide.

With a mournful cry the fisherman dove in and he caught her by her side.

The waves beat out a wedding march as they kissed beneath the tide

Though now his life was short, she kept her word and took him to her bower in the deep

His lifeless body moulders still, at the bottom of her cold, dark ,ocean keep.

Oh lonely little fisherman

How happy we will be!

I will make you very happy

In our home beneath the sea.

There’s a moral to this story, a fishy tale it’s true!

The mermaid’s song is quite beguiling,

Sailor, you know just what she’ll do.

It’s bad enough she’ll break your heart, don’t let her drown you too!