Many years ago when I was a daring youth,
I lived in a town where old legend held great truth.
Halloween night friends would gather at west graveyard,
it made no difference that the entrance stayed barred.
We would scale the wall in search for her grave,
to prove to others how foolish and brave.
Rumors transcended she was a monstrous ghost,
only revealing to ones she disliked the most.
Relics were chipped from Sally’s aged headstone,
attesting we were in her shrouded burial zone.
During the night she would come to our room,
retrieve the chip and return to her tomb.
Legend had stated, Sally died a fierce demise,
from a deadly disease that stifled agonizing cries.
Her lover saw her fall from atop steep staircase,
she just turned sixteen; frail body draped in white lace.
When the moon was full and close to midnight,
she would float above her grave and then fade from sight.
We ran for our lives through a headstone maze,
to satisfy the oddity of a teenager’s craze.
Now her grave and aged tombstone have been moved,
since family did not want visitors they had not approved.
Sally now lies somewhere in a grave undisclosed,
with her legend and memory fully decomposed.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey