The Book

 

The Book

 

Sifting through debris that seems to clutter up my view

I uncover a leather bound book that is far from being new

The title mostly worn away by years of stale neglect

The pages coarse and yellowed; soiled, torn and wrecked

 

I question where it came from; who left it in this place?

How many years ago it came to rest within this space?

Shoved off in the corner, under dusty magazines

A lamp without a shade and a few old window screens

 

A dozen folded blankets of faded greens and reds

A carton full of canisters, a couple winter sleds

Behind a broken mirror, that should have been the clue

I feel that I should open it; yes that’s what I will do

 

The book is very brittle, I hold it gingerly

Turn it so its cover faces directly up at me

I see a sudden movement over by that wall

I turn to witness nothing...nothing there at all

 

This is getting creepy, I wish there were more light

I should have never gone into this attic late at night

But now I’m acting stupid, just like a little kid

I came into the attic, indeed that’s what I did

 

There’s nothing hiding up here, waiting to attack

Just a thousand dusty boxes someday to unpack

A single swinging bulb, perhaps a sixty watt

Creating eerie shadows, thickening the plot

 

The floorboards weak with age; creaking as I walk

This attic is so large it seems to echo when I talk

So many darkened corners to play tricks upon the eye

It’s like an old time movie and someone’s gonna die

 

 I feel as if I’m being watched, a chill runs down my spine

Is there somebody over there or have I lost my mind?

The air is getting colder; I think I see my breath

I’m not afraid to tell that I am scared now half to death

 

I hate it in this attic of spider webs and dust

Maybe in the daytime I’d find it easier to adjust

I came up here this evening just to have a look

The only thing of interest that I found was this old book

 

As now this book I open, the first page it is bare

Not a single word or picture waiting for me there

The next one holds the title, I can’t see it too well

The words that lay before me, it’s far too dark to tell

 

"Hey there, what was that?" Startled now I turn

I think I just saw something move behind that plaster urn

Maybe it was hairy, with fangs so long and white

Perhaps some kind of monster to eat me on this night

 

I move a little closer, that doesn’t show good sense

My eyes they try and focus, my muscles become tense

Reaching for the object, I give it quite a shake

What if that thing hiding there turns out to be a snake?

 

That slithers up next to me and I can’t even see

And when I least expect it, it plants a bite on me

Then what if all its venom is pushed inside my veins

Will I die here in this attic; will I feel a lot of pain?

 

And what if it’s a spider, bigger than a cat

What happens if it stings me, what will happen after that?

Will my skin fall off into a puddle on the floor?

Will it be all sticky and full of bloody gore?

 

 then drip through the ceiling, to the bedroom down below

What if someone’s sleeping; and they never even know

And spills upon their pillow as they lay in bed and snore

Will they wake and realize I’m dead on the next floor?

 

Oh no, I think it’s back there, hiding in the dark

I know it’s not a dog, cause I didn’t hear a bark

"Come on, don’t be a coward." This thought is on my mind

But if I move the pottery, what is there to find?

 

I summons up the courage; I grab the vase so tight

I’m ready now to pull it on this dark and scary night

I look down as I move it, my shoulders give a shrug

Running from the pottery is a cockroach, just a bug

 

So now I turn attention, back to the dusty book

Reopen up the pages, prepare to have a look

Just then a little flicker and then the brightest flash

As the wire hanging light bulb hit the floor now with a crash

 

Total darkness in the attic, I can not see a thing

My one hand out in front, the book the other clings

Now I just want to find the stairs that I came up before

the ones that sit here just inside the creaky attic door

 

Slowly I do creep, my foot used as a guide

To push and probe for items that may block my timid stride

Finally now the stairway, one step at a time

The door can’t be much farther; I shall leave this place behind

 

At last I grab the handle and quickly with a spin

The attic door it opens, I shall not go back in

I lock the door behind me, my heart still beating fast

You can keep your memories, that stuff that’s from the past

 

It just now that I notice that I still have that book

The one that I found up there, the one that I just took

It doesn’t look so scary down here in the light

I think I’ll find the title, I think I will, I might

 

I open up the pages and now I’m scared to death

The title is so scary it took away my breath

I’ll tell you what it reads if you promise not to scream

 

 

 

Scroll down for the final line of the poem

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

 

V

 

To all my friends on WC...Happy Halloween

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Reviews

[iliOZ]

thank you jack for this "light" piece about all hallows' eve, which comes handy before the somewhat "heavier" upcoming all saints' day and the all souls' day.

so i say too happy halloween!

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much my friend. I always appreciate your visits.

[redflutterby]

Lol...oh what a cute ending Jack!! Great poem for Halloween. ;-)

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much my good friend. Happy Halloween

[Sami Khalil]

A wonderful scary book with mystery title and contents that frightens every one even the narrator along with dark visions of things ...I like the story-type narration in this one too...Happy Halloween ...Bravo

[Jack...]

Thanks so much Sami. Happy Halloween

[Sami Khalil]

You too...Welcome...:).............