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The Ghost of Booger Holler
I ain't afraid of no ghost, friend, You can bet your bottom dollar I'm an expert on ghosts of men - I was born in Booger Holler. Now the Holler's a mile across And the length is about the same The trees all drip with Spanish Moss, The woods are all empty of game Our haunting ghost was named Ol' Jake A Reb who'd come home from the war He found his bride down by the lake Skinned and eat by a grizzly b'ar Now Jake blamed everyone around As he just went slowly insane He cussed an' wept and stomped the ground An' told 'em all her name was Jane He hung himself in a Live Oak tree An' swore he'd haunt this hated home So that's the way my Pa told me - The ghost we knew began to roam The Holler was haunted no doubt - Moans and screams and wind all around Now and then a laugh or a shout Sometimes the feel of shaking ground Well, that went on for thirty years All us kids were no longer scared Then we heard the ghost shed his tears And were surprised that we all cared The haunting stopped one dark cold night The lonely ghost just seemed to rest A wise old man spoke as he might "Even Boogers get old, I guess." June 3, 2016 For contest I Ain't Afraid Of No Ghosts, for Casarah Nance
Copyright © 2024 Larry Bradfield. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things