Tales from the "Crypt"

 

Under the light of a thin crescent moon

two children walked onward, heading for home.

To watch younger cousin, the older agreed,

the younger one thrilled to just follow his lead.
 
’Twas just after dark when the movie had ended,

they exited theater to make their way back;

the street lights shone dim on the staircase ahead

past church into cemetery, the older now led.

Aware now it was getting late

the older suggested an alternate path

and so they passed through the iron gate

past shadowy headstones where the ‘undead’ await…

She tried to keep up in the eerie half light

she knew that their street wasn’t that far 

as he ran up ahead, no longer in sight

—not a sound could be heard, not even a car. 

And as he jumped out, she let out a scream

—he thought it was funny (he's really not mean)

It’s a wonder she didn’t faint then and there 

at being the victim of impromptu scare!

The rest of the trip was spent trying to appease

with the offerings of bribes and apologies,

the older not wanting to face the wrath 

for scaring his cousin on that darkened path

              *  *  *  *  *

To this day, I can still recall

the shadowy path on that long ago night

when I thought that the undead had risen from hell,

my dear older cousin to thank for that fright!

© Ginny Brannan

True story, of being "allowed" to accompany my older cousin to a 7 pm movie, already dark out when movie ended. The shortest route home was the road was through the Episcopal church cemetery, a direct line between two streets.My cousins are great, but when not playing "big brother" to protect me, I am apparently "fair game" to be picked on.

* *Image of Immanuel Episcopal Church, Bellows Falls. Yes the actual church and cemetery. Apologies to the photographer who took this image. I found it online, and cannot seem to find it again. Name credit will be added when found.

"Megan Marie"

 

The moon broke through the shrouded sky

revealing a ship with tattered sails;

a haunted vessel that sailed the seas,

an enigma masked in mystery,

She’d seen her share of storms and gales

of cannon fire and mutinies.

Whenever her name was uttered or spoke,

it struck fear in the hearts of the hardiest blokes
for all knew the name of the “Megan Marie.”

Some loves are never meant to be

and hearts oft want what they cannot have

And so her captain sailed the seas

trying to forget the woman he’d lost.

And when they gave his eulogy

they spoke of this pirate who scoured the seas

searching in every port of call
for the woman he loved who held the key...

without her his heart would never be free.

And sometimes, on a starless night,

when the white caps stir from a feral wind

the masts arise from their salty grave

and the ancient ship sets sail again,

fulfilling the ancient prophecy 

of the one who still searches for Megan Marie.

© Ginny Brannan 2025

Skeleton Bones!

 

Spooky, spooky skeletons

dancing on the lawn

their shadows move in firelight

to their favorite song.

Witch’s kettle on the flames

stirring up a stew

eye of newt and toe of frog

in their special brew.

From the woods there comes a howl,

an otherworldly sound;

watch dismembered body parts

crawl out of the ground.

Spooky, spooky skeletons

dancing on the lawn

while batwings whisper from their caves

into the woods beyond.

The will o’ wisps blink in the mist

what secrets might they share,

preying upon simpletons 

to catch them unaware?

The undead rise before our eyes

searching for the feast

We do not know which way they’ll go

– no rest for the ‘deceased.’

Spooky, spooky skeletons

dancing on the lawn

on the edges of the night, 

Blink…and they are gone.

© Ginny Brannan 2025

In no small part inspired by Disney's "Skeleton Dance", couldn't get the tune out of my head. The words, however, are my own!

Things That Go Bump in the Night

 

Soft footsteps echo through the empty hall

to startle me awake from dreamless sleep

as ghostly shadows dance along the wall

 

Ever cautiously so I don’t fall,

across the barren oaken floor do I creep

toward the sound of footsteps in the hall

 

Over gabled roof a Screech owl calls

before escaping into woodlands deep

while limb-like shadows creep along the wall

 

By the bedroom door I pause, then stall­–

the aging floor condemns with a loud 'creak'

to warn approaching footsteps in the hall

 

I wonder if I have the wherewithal

to crack the door a bit and take a peak,

while shadows hold their council on the wall

 

I think back under covers I shall crawl

inside my blanket shroud I’ll burrow deep;

hidden from the footsteps in the hall

and those shadows, ever watchful, on the wall.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023

With Naught to Fear but Fear Itself...

It’s said that on All Hallows Eve, the Spirits are allowed to enter and roam the realm of man… 

There’s a chill that abides in damp Autumn days

a feeling of sadness that cannot be shaken

a sense of misgiving, a deep trepidation

as grayness adheres, the mountains encased

in a heavy gray shroud, barren trees now erased.

Midday gives way to a sinister pall

casting the world in an evening like somber

Increased sense of dread tells us “linger no longer!”

composure implodes to deter and forestall 

stirring fear uncontained that we’d best not allow… 

 

There’s something that rides on an October wind

a mist of contention that soaks to the ground,

in a fog of misgiving that coats and impounds.

Even those who possess a strong rationale

feel a panic that rattles the sanest and sound

The lost spirits wander, just hidden from sight

concealed under cover of drizzle and gloam,

doomed between worlds, unseen and unknown.

—shadowy creatures that roam undeterred,

searching for pathways to find their way home

 

Feel the goose bumps that rise to make hair stand on end

hear the wailing that drifts on an inclement wind

light the fires to chase all shadows within

to bury the fears which we can’t circumvent

and the deep-seated nightmares that never relent.

 

The end of October just hours away­–

  All Hallows eve ascends even now

the late autumn juncture seems darker somehow…

even now the gates open, the spirits hold sway

     but will they be gone by the light of new day?

© Ginny Brannan Halloween 2020

Leveling the Beast

 

Darkness rolls in early

a chill hangs in the air

there’s howling in the distance,

is it a wolf that tarries there?

Up inside the tower

the doctor’s working hard

a creature waits to come from life

built from parts discarded

And in the swamp, the water churns,

what lies beneath the reeds?

It crawls to the embankment

in darkness now he creeps.

‘Neath the headstones comes a scraping,

in the dirt a hand is seen

as undead hear the calling

and rally to convene.

Overhead there comes a cackle

of witches on the fly;

the bats are in the belfry,

and vampires are nigh.

The spirits have all risen

the creatures of the night,

wandering among us

hidden in plain sight.

From sky and swamp and graveyard

the horrors come call,

but the orange man with tiny hands

is  the scariest of all!

No one knows from whence he came

with beady eyes and scowl

to strike discourse with no remorse 

and makes their dead skin crawl.

Yes, even gruesome monsters 

who slither from the earth

watch their step around him

while keeping a wide berth.

They say that only humans 

—us ordinary folk—

can rid this earth of such a beast

his reign of terror "revoke."

It’s up to every one us

so we must persevere 

to exile this pedophile

and evil profiteer!

© G. Brannan 2020