"THE HAUNTED WELL"
Written by Dolores Faye Thorn

I heard the sounds - first high -
Then low
Like a cry of ghostly woe.
I crept out of my bed - moving
Ver-r-y slow.
I walked on tippy toe,
To investigate this chilling sound
That haunted me from beneath
The ground.
The night wind flowed,
My candle glowed,
As I peered down into the well
That was dark, and dank, and
Covered with mold.
I was gripped with fear and
Stark disquiet
On this memorable, moonless,
Pitch-black night.
Chilled to the bone
I heard a distant moan.
I was (or was I?) Alone.
Were those squealing sounds all mine?
Or ours together entwined.
Oh - if I had known what terror
I would see down there,
I would have stayed safe within
The fold
Of my soft warm blanket,
Instead of being so curiously
Bold.
For I would rather not have
Known
What on that dreadful night
Was shown.
And what I saw down in that
Well . . .
I shall never, never tell!!!