The House That Lives To Haunt (Halloween) Poem by Kristin Nicole RothDavis

Once upon a time not so long ago, they say
there lived a haunted house up on a hill. One day
an old man of ninety built this house of grey rock
right on top of the town's cemetery en bloc.

Folks for many years claimed the man was a monster
he even coerced his eleven kids to transfer
to a far away boarding school without a word,
people today heard their plea for help undeterred.

Nineteen years before, was his wife the whore, alone
canning peaches in the basement below stone,
when he cracked her head open with a new shovel
he tossed her in the blue lit furnace to hovel.

The anniversary will be on Hallows eve,
and in this house her spirit haunts, or so believed.
Through the darkened walls her heart beats rapidly, so
tread lightly for her blood weeps in memory of her foe.

Windows of fury and revenge seek to find all
who don't have the merciful heart to hear one's call.


Copyright © 10-29-2007, Kristin Roth-Davis