Poetry - The Torment ...

Skeleton In The Tree
Or
"No Room In The Boneyard"

The story I'm about to tell
Is not 'commercial' but will sell
To those of you who like to hear
Tales of Death, Despair and Fear!
One summer evening, long ago,
I walked, distracted, with my woe
Through darkened wood and shady glen,
Through soughing winds; the hour? - ten
It was upon the stroke of this,
That from the tree there came a 'Hiss',
I raised my head, and there I saw,
Hinged to the tree, a wooden door!
And seated there, within the tree,
A skeleton was brewing tea!

The tree itself gave little room.
Enough however for a tomb.
It beckoned me to enter in.
And this I did to sit by him-
But up he leapt with sockets aglow-
I had closed the door upon his toe!
He sat again upon his stool
(Here I confess I felt a fool)
I introduced myself and he
Then poured me out a cup of tea.
Towards me he turned his bleached head,
Unlocked his jaw and slowly said:

"The time has come for me to tell
You men, how I returned from Hell.
I lived as you one time with flesh.
My body strong, my spirit fresh-
Too fresh I fear, with ladies gay,
For in due time my sins I'd pay.
But I was young and far too blind:
There was a wench I had in mind.
Who was to a wealthy Lord well wed,
Who riches had and armies led.
Night after night, this maiden fair.
With ruby lips and golden hair,
Revealed herself in dreams to me
Here he paused and asked - "More tea?".

"The torment long I could not stand,
Went to the castle, sword in hand,
Called to the Lord - "Sire, let me in,
Your Lady's hand I've come to win!"
I saw him lower the bridge alone.
I heard the rusty hinges moan:
As I stepped on I heard him gloat.
As I slipped down into the dark green moat,
I could not swim and splashed in vain.
The current drew me down a drain.
I could not see, speak, hear or think.
But yet could smell - boy, what a stink!

And by that mighty evil flood
My beaten corpse, now drained of blood,
Was drawn into a cavern deep
Where sinners all their merits reap.
I raised my head and there I saw
Ranged about upon the floor,
Broken bones as from a mill,
Some with flesh adhering still.
Lord Lucifer stood there and said -
"Strange you should come - you aren't dead,
But since you've come so premature.
You must be rotten to the core!"
I was indignant at his words
(Then I remembered all those 'birds')
I hung my head deep down in shame,
For I had but myself to blame.

Said he-'My brains you make me rack,
   For spirits should their bodies lack.
   You're here in flesh, your sins to purge,
   So first we will your body scourge'.
They tied me down and beat me well,
('Tis true to say, it hurt like Hell)
Yet I minded not, for I'd just seen
A pretty nymph-'twas Satan's Queen!
She caught my eye and smiled at me;
I thought-'How happy we could be.
I think tonight, late after sup,
I'll go to her and chat her up!'

When Lucifer had gone to bed.
By furnace light we twain were wed,
For I believe in working fast,
Though the gamble be my last.
On waking, Satan wasn't pleased.
My throat he grasped and this he squeezed,
'No one invited you here to come,
What right had you-you no-good bum!
You're not a spirit, just bone and skin,
Lord knows why I let you in!
I think that back to earth you'll go,
You're far too bad for us below.'

On my way there I'd suffered much
But going back, the tide was such,
That 'twas not blood, but flesh I lost,
As through those slimy drains I tossed.
My skin it peeled, my flesh dissolved,
But not to drown, I was resolved;
At last-I found myself afloat,
Upon the waters of the moat.

On the bank I lay to die,
But all I did was bleach and dry
On awakening t felt so light,
I very nearly died of fright..
I looked into the waters deep,
Thinking perchance I was asleep,
But no-I saw, in grinning scorn
Myself turned to a skeleton!
And so I sit, all day, all night,
Within this tree-a sorry sight,
And though I do so often try,
I know full well I'll never die.

For I cannot live a mortal life;
Hell's allright-but for the wife!
Heaven I'm sure will have me not,
So here I sit and hope to rot.
My son, from me a warning take,
Life is just a piece of cake,
Providing you don't exaggerate.
A maiden fair is but man's bait'
And here this skeleton I left,
Alone-of all but life bereft.
I turned away and left him free-
A skeleton in a skeleton tree.

Eric Carroll U.6