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
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