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Array
(
[sid] => 183400
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => When The Ten Bells Toll
[time] => 2016-07-27 13:26:53
[hometext] => Another little ghost story to chill the bones, even though its the middle of Summer. I know its long but hopefully worth the read.
[bodytext] => Pay heed, spoke the teller, the tale I spake this winters eve for those of you gathered in Stowed here again the raking fingers of the storm Is a book unfinished, chapters more yet to ink upon this tortured page Those who fear indeed be wise men, scuttle to your homes Melt behind doors, protected from ill Pray for thy brethren, who gladly usher the curse upon them Those who welcome the demons of the night as unfamiliar friends When the wind begins to sing her lullaby in long dark alleyways Better to be housed in warm chamber than turned out from tavern in crescent moonlight Do not linger in the pit of night when cold breath plumes like chimney smoke And the shadows of damned souls seep from every dim corner One raised his lantern high and peered across the black city streets Scoffing at the memories of the tale just told, one clear fact still lodged in the mind When the ten bells toll as the messenger of death, the soul taker comes to reap once more Half glanced pocket watch confirmed fear was folly Quarter to the midnight hour gave comfort to remnants of doubt Sea air salted incoming breath as the wind whipped the clapper of the old harbour bell And waves thrashed the rocks where the caves drank the sea Galleon masts crisscrossed the white of the moon Decks groaned to the swirling belly of the deep This was the time they called the Devils Chill The dead of night when biting cold snapped breath from the lungs Footsteps slowed as he turned from shore, up the commanding rise of the hill to home He stopped, startled briefly by the hoot of unseen owl in the cradle of nearby oak Then smiled at the folly of allowing the mind to play tricks Short-lived silence reclaimed the gloom as the old church came into view Thrusting its monolith skyward, beyond the rooted realm of earth Heavy bells began to toll, sentinels to time Casting their message deep into the void No fumbling in his pocket, he counted each, eight, nine, ten, then no more Shoulders shrugged against midnight moon-glow Warning tale forgotten as the traveller strode on Morning dew had scarcely lifted from the hedgerow when they found him, still and cold Clinging to the gatepost, pocket watch spilled to the ground reading the hour of 10 Drink was his undoing claimed one of the gathered throng But the one who knew smiled a knowing smile Another chapter closed for a never finished book As the deep red ink within slowly began to dry. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 387 [topic] => 31 [informant] => puppy_dog_eyes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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