The Tale Of Megan Poem by Patricia Gale

I’ll tell you a tale tonight
Bout’ a gal who still walks though she breathes not
In the middle of the early morn’ when the moon still shines bright
She comes along three fifteen. right on the dot

A knocking three times on the door
Stirring the house where she past
Leaving no foot prints on the floor
She only wished to find help at last

Fatal crash down by the curve
Round the bend and on the bluff
An early death she did not deserve
Too young, too soon but oddly enough

She knows not that she is dead
She knocks ery’ February
Hoping to find the help she may need
Her poor soul grows so wary

So in the night if you hear
Three knocks loud and hard
At three fifteen on the dot, never fear
It’s only Megan Vancard in your yard