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The House of the Dead

Terrence, Timmy, Becky and Fred
Went to visit The House of the Dead
Terrence was frightened but Becky said,
“C’mon guys, it’s just an old shed”
Timmy stammered, “Did you hear about Ned?
He disappeared the night he was wed.
His widow claims that although he fled
Spirits dragged him back to the House of the Dead”

Becky said, “Timmy, you’re just a scardy cat.
Ned went back to pick up his hat.”
“I heard,” said Fred “That he found his hat
But lost his life. How about that?”
“You know,” Said Terrence, “I think we should scat
Cuz’ I just saw a big black cat.”
Then Tommy bumped into a great big bat
And screamed for his mommy who had warned him that

The House of the Dead was no place to play
And prudent people knew to stay away
But Becky was fearless on that fateful day.
She continued down the spooky walkway
Terrence and Timmy turned and ran away
But Fred got up the nerve to say,
“Now Becky you know I’d rather not stay
But I couldn’t just leave you alone that way.”

Becky said, “Terrence, do what you will
I’m not about to miss out on a thrill.”
Terrence shrugged off a great big chill
And followed her up the haunted hill
The two trekked on by force of will
And boldly ignored with majestic skill
The squeals and screeches, wicked and shrill
Made by spirits that maim and kill

After they opened the creaking door
She grabbed his arm and they walked ‘cross the floor
Then they saw what they were looking for
Grisly guts and gruesome gore
And a hideous specter which they could not ignore
Appeared behind them and locked the door
He said, “Have a seat, I do implore
And I’ll tell you a story about the woman I adore

Her name is Rebecca, just like you
She died in Seventeen Seventy-Two
When a man named Oliver Sutton Drew
Shot her and her lover, Winthrop Larue
Oliver died a young man too
He was sent to the gallows for the people he slew
Now the three of us have nothing to do
But frighten poor young fools like you.”

Two bloody bodies appeared next to Fred
Their faces filled with terror and dread
Becky grabbed a bar made of lead
And threw it through the window next to the bed
As one of the ghosts removed its head
They tried to climb out then dove instead
They followed their trail back where it led
And never returned to The House of the Dead

by Richard W. Bray

Tags: Children's Literature, Humor, Poetry

This entry was posted on October 30, 2009 at 1:38 am and is filed under Poetry for Kids. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.