The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #12472   Message #3018019
Posted By: ClaireBear
28-Oct-10 - 05:31 PM
Thread Name: Mudcat Campfire
Subject: RE: Mudcat Campfire
Great idea, EJ. OK then...I found this poem online, and left it as alone as I could, but you know, I'm an editor, and I just couldn't help fiddling with it. So George, if you read this, I hope you like what I did. Here's the first bit of it...

All Hallows Eve

adapted by from a poem written by George L. Avery

Down a little-used path in a deep humble wood,
Lived a woodsman named Joe—a recluse, shy but good.
He had nary a neighbor, for no one lived near,
So he lived in contentment, long year after year.
He'd built a wee cabin on the wood's highest ground,
From whose door he could gaze on the forest all 'round.
He plucked food from his garden, pulled fish from the streams,
In that wood he was living the life of his dreams.

To his joy, he'd no neighbors to borrow or steal,
To bring hustle and bustle or fervor and zeal.
But Time passed his cabin, and with it came change,
One night he smelt woodsmoke, which struck him as strange.
So the very next morning, when the smoke hung about,
He laced up his boots and he quickly set out.
He made the short trek to the edge of his wood
And found he had neighbors—a new cabin stood.

What misfortune! Egad! Would this herald a trend?
You'd have thought that his world had just come to an end.
The woodsman crept back to the trees with a sigh,
Then he hurried away, as a tear dimmed his eye.
And made signs that he hung on the trees, every one,
Saying "CALLERS NOT WELCOME" and "LEAVE ME ALONE."
The signs did their work, for no one, well or ill,
Came to call on the woodsman on the crest of the hill.

More families arrived, and a neighborhood sprang.
Each new chimney top gave the woodsman a pang.
Soon, rumors were whispered that bode him no good:
"There's a wicked old woodsman who lives in the wood."
"He eats children for tea ... He's got horns on his head."
"He's a ghost. He's a ghoul. He's the walking undead."
Small children awoke in the night with a cry,
In fear that the woodsman was stalking nearby.

* * *

...there! That's a start. Hey, that's thirsty work! Who else wants a swig from this bottle?