On Hallows Eve: The Night of the Walking Dead
John Taylor Jones
My mother said, “You must go now.
Father will want his bread.”
“But it’s dark out there,” I said to her.
Tis’ the night of the Walking Dead.
“Oh, Shaw,” she said, “There’s no such thing
As the night of the living dead.”
I said, “I’m taking my baseball bat.”
She said, “It rolled under the bed.”
She was laughing as I opened the door to the street.
The wind was blowing the willow tree.
The moon was rising, a witch across flying,
That was all so real to me.
I walked along the cobblestone lane,
Each step to me was awful pain,
Cuz I knew they were out there looking for me.
I tried to be brave but Mr. Fright ran free.
And then from the cemetery up the road
Came a really gigantic hopping toad.
I knew my mind was tricking me
‘Til a newspaper blew over my face and I could not see.
When I pulled it away
With one quick toss,
There was a dead man standing.
All was lost!
Then I heard a voice
As I bolted away,
“Where are you running, Lad?”
It was Master Gray
I smiled at him
As I lowered my bat.
‘Tis nothin’, Sir.
Just killin’ rats.”
That’s when we saw
The Walking dead.
I was behind
Master Gray, ahead.
And father never
Got his bread!
copyright 2013 John Taylor Jones
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