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~ Poetry by me ~
'Twas the Ancestors' Night
Ancestors' Night MP3
Or, sung to
Cher-ee from "Marry Poppins", a bit more slowly
'Twas the Ancestors' Night which we call Halloween,
When strange moving shapes near old gallows were seen,
The shadows of those who were hung there with care,
They seemed to grow solid and really be there.
They gathered and walked through the streets of my town,
When I saw them coming, I cast myself down;
But the scariest thing was, all these deceased,
They looked just like dressed for a Halloween feast.
Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a wain which was pulled by some animals queer,
And a broad-hatted fellow who drove with such vim,
I knew in a moment it must be Old Grim.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
"Now, Sleipnir! Now, Loki! Now run, Hildisvin!
/ "Now, Sleipnir! Now, Tanngrisnir! Run, Hildisvin!
"Run, Gullinbursti, it is Halloween!
"Now run, Gullinbursti, it is Halloween!
"To the top of the World! To the top of the Tree!
"Now dash away! Dash away! Onward with ye!"
As valk'ries before the wild battle will fly,
When they've picked up a dead guy, they soar to the sky,
So up to the Tree-top the coursers they flew,
With Grim in the wain, and some other folks too.
With dire foreboding, I heard rustling moves,
The clatter and gallop of thundering hooves;
As I peeked from my bush and was turning around,
Down on the Tree trunk came Grim with a bound:
His eye - how it glittered! His cloak was deep blue,
He jumped from the wain without further ado;
In the smoke that rose from the pipe that he held,
Pale figures were forming, and seethed and dispelled.
He was hollow and gaunt, as dark as an alf,
And I quaked when I saw him in spite of myself;
A glint of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had reason to dread.
He looked around, and he brandished his spear,
And an odd looking crowd stepped from the wain's rear:
A vamp with a necklace, a judge with one hand,
A redhead, a sailor with feet full of sand,
A talking wiseguy who was just a head,
A man who looked blind and his bro' who looked dead,
A woman in white who walked like a queen,
And a guy with the biggest pumpkin you've seen.
They did not tarry, but set to their work,
And gathered the ghosts from the gallows who lurked,
They fetched and they beckoned them into the wain,
And when it was full, they too boarded again.
Grim took the reins, and he gave me a wink,
And I dared to hope while in fear I'd still shrink;
And giving a nod, up the Tree trunk he went,
The shadowy people behind him all pent,
And away they all flew, as fast a a crow,
And left me dazedly standing below,
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight:
"Y'all have a Happy Ancestors' Night!"
License: This poem may be freely distributed, provided it remains
unchanged, including the copyright notice and this License:
This work by
(www.odins-gift.com) is licensed
Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.
Parody of "A Visit from St. Nicholas", also known as "The Night Before
Christmas" and "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" from its first line, first
published anonymously in 1823 and generally attributed to Clement Clarke Moore
(1779 – 1863).