In Honor Of Her Brother Poem by David Welch

Miriam Colrick and her husband Brad,
tired of dank cities, crumbling and bad,
moved to New Hampshire, bought themselves a farm,
a place they could raise children without harm.

Fifty-six acres, half-forest, half-field,
space to stretch out, live a life that was real,
the only downside of their new homestead?
Some of the locals said it was haunted.

Miriam was not sure she believed their claims,
her first three months were quiet and plain,
neighbors said from there a boy had been kidnapped,
and later two murdered when a farmer snapped.

All sorts of stories, so many dark deeds,
but Miriam and Brad paid them little heed,
in fact those three months brought them much joy,
Miriam fell pregnant, expecting a boy!

It was shortly after that things went off-track,
first she felt many chills run down her back,
then sounds late at night, doors opened and closed,
in Brad's kitchen garden nothing would grow.

And strangely a picture fell from its frame
the moment they decided to name him James,
fear started creeping to Miriam's face
when she found the living room all out of place.

But Brad was not the superstitious type,
dismissed all the sounds they heard at night,
"It is an old house, they're all bound to creak,
and there's plenty of strange sounds in the country."

And so it kept on until one midnight dim,
the baby was kicking, Miriam felt him,
but she heard a squeaking in the bathroom,
figured it was dripping, got up in the gloom.

She drew near to see handles move back and fourth,
then glanced in the mirror, cried out in horror,
a half-butchered face was what she them saw,
gurgling horrible, and missing his jaw.

Then a force shoved her, smashed her to the sink,
blackness enveloped her, could not even think,
later Brad told her the one thing he heard
was a distorted and evil laughter.

She came too resting in a hospital bead,
her husband said sadly, "The baby…is dead."
It was many hours that she wept and sobbed,
nearly broken by the life that was robbed.

People all said it was an accident,
with no money to move, back home they went,
though they paid a priest to bless their farmhouse,
hoping that his words would cast evil out.

For a year they lived and were not bothered,
began to question what it was they'd heard,
but one careless night, though the love was sublime,
Miriam got pregnant for the second time.

Not long after things started going amiss,
Brad tried to stay calm, "Let's not read into this."
But furniture moved, the creaking returned,
they heard pained howls that left them disturbed.

And one still night, quieter than most tombs,
Miriam heard a dripping from the bathroom.
She felt a terror most will never know,
refused to get up, clutching covers close.

For ten long minutes the dripping went on,
then suddenly stopped, and a new horror spawned,
'cause in the doorway a tortured shape stood,
bone scraping on wood as it moved down…

Then something behind it, a new brilliant form,
shined with ethereal light by the door!
It was a young man, shimmering in white,
that beamed out brightly, lighting up the night.

He grasped the horror in a great bear-hug,
crushing inwards the great demonic thug,
as the young man fought with this entity fell,
he cried, "You are long overdue down in Hell! "

Then in a flash the two figures vanished,
Miriam sat up stunned, Brad oblivious,
light appeared again, then over her bed,
the young man floated, looking exhausted.

And though she'd not seen her first little one,
somehow she knew that she looked on her son.
The shape of his face, both Brad's and her own,
the spirit of a boy she never had known…

James smiled and said, "The priest asked the Big Man
if he could stop this from happening again.
Normally He says that, 'Vengeance is Mine, '
but He subcontracted out to me this time."

Miriam gasped, "I….there's so much to say…"
James said, "Don't fear, you'll meet me at the gates.
No need to rush though, live out all your years,
there's so much to show my sister down here."

With that he faded, the room now serene,
she awakened Brad to tell what she'd seen,
he seemed skeptical, but didn't press the fact,
but the creaking and howls never came back.

From that day forth their farm was a refuge,
devoid of spirits, now hopeful and true,
and to a girl Miriam became mother,
named Etta-James, in honor of her brother.