The Last Road to Gimmerton

A long time ago, there was a boy and a girl who loved each other.

It began at the crags,

which were weathered by wind

wuthering ways and ways.

The old forest rose up after

the crags, bowing almost

out of respect.

The crags were absolutely desolate,

although life sprouted

a few inches away in

each direction.

A mountain of sharp

gray and brown stones

crowded on top of each other

to form a dull point.

Around the mountain’s base

lay a landscape of hills and valleys

of even more weathered stone.

 

Gimmerton, which resided

far down the dirty road,

whispered of the ghosts

among the ruined crags.

The townspeople muttered

behind their hands and in

the dark of their lonely

cottages that the crags

had once been the formidable

home of a dark, dark man.

He had been said to poison

all around him,

even the land,

which was the supposed

source of the site’s desolateness.

The man had been hateful;

he loved a lady who,

in spirit and heart,

was his replica.

The lady had longed

for a life of comfort and

wealth to what the man

could give her.

 

Thus, the dark man cursed

his home and himself

to be haunted by the restless

ghost of his dead love.

The last road to Gimmerton

remains as deserted and as

desolate as the crags of the

dark man’s cursed home.

Few dare to venture near

the ruins, but those who do

often return with the tale of

a blonde ghost upon their lips.

Author's Note

Inspired by Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights."

Reviews

[Inyourshadow]

Thought you were writing about my home as my village extends from a place called the Craggs White carved rocks full of natural caves and woodland and deep rich fields of ferns but no haunted house only a haunted burnt out Abbey destroyed by Henry VIII.

This is a dark tense piece of poetry revolving nicely around both the central character and the craggs that surround him.

Could easily be explored and extended to become another of your Poe like short stories, good luck and keep em' coming

[Ken Yen]

a desolate comfort set in after reading this. those pitiable spirits didn't raise my fears as i became immersed in the setting you described. i'd really love to walk that road sometime...

[Nothing Personal]

It's a shame I haven't read Emily's "Wuthering Heights' but your fluid narrative caught my attention early..It's a delectable fable -ish poem well described, well paced..Certainly a pleasurable read for me