A Tall Story

Poem By sylvia spencer

The Inn smelt old as I walked through the door.
The tables were rustic and so was the floor.
I sat by the fire all cold and damp and my feet
were wet and numb with cramp.
The soot from the chimney lay piled in the grate
and some how I knew I was in for a long wait.
A nasty smell came up from nowhere
and without no one around, I had a feeling of
beware.
I was cold and hungry and my throat had a thirst
but little did I know I was to expect the worst.
A gust of wind came down the chimney breast
then all at once I knew I was not the only guest.
In the opposite chair sat a man in black, he never
came in the door so he must have come down the
open chimney stack.The air was cold and my hunger
got worse, then I saw this man get out his purse.
Out of his purse came coins of gold and I knew at once
they were very old. He counted the coins with his
hat pulled down, then looked at me and gave a frown.
Who was this man dressed in black, who came like
a ghost down the chimney stack.
I feared for my life in a funny kind of way, but something
was telling that I had to stay.
I watched the embers fade into ash and this man in black
count out his cash, was he a robber with a price on his head
or was he a ghost come back from the dead.
As I tried to get close but that nasty smell got stronger, it was
making me feel sick, I could'nt stand it any longer.
Then a gust of wind blew me across the room and the man
in black was gone to soon.
The cold had gone and the air was warm, the night had
gone and it was almost dawn.
I had supped the soup and eaten the bread and made
friends with a ghost who came back from the dead.The
smell had gone and that was the best, had I been put
through some sort of test.
The Landlord told me he visits every year to claim
the taxes on the Inns beer.A forgotton Tax Man
who was done to death because he had a nasty
smelly breath.Now this was a tall story and I do have others
because The Man in Black has several Brothers.

Comments about A Tall Story

The stinky winky came to town, with breath of cabbage and a funny gown This is such great fun Sylvia Thankyou Love duncan X
A fascinating and sinister tale well told. Cheers for your rich imagination. Love, Sandra
A shiver went down my back as I read this one. Like your other readers, I will await stories of his 'brothers.' As always, a good read, Sylvie. Love, Fran xx
Great story Sylvie.Liked it very much. Sid John x
A stuningly told tale, Sylvia, tall or otherwise; like Nalini I look forward to future instalments. Sylvia, you're at your best here! t x


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Other poems of SPENCER

A Bunch Of Roses

I love life but does life love me when I have to cook
tea for a family of three.
One wants this and one wants that and between
those wants I have to feed the cat.

A Basket Of Goodies

Why do the the people call you Crabby
is it because your clothes are shabby.
Why have the people called you this awful name
I think their at fault and you are not to blame.

A Lonely Heart In A Thunderstorm

A lonely heart sets the table but is she a Milly,
a Betty or a Mabel. Tea, coffee, cakes and ale
but outside there blows a gale. Sash cord windows
rattling like chains, thunder and lighting tormenting her

A Wayward Life

Born out of wedlock,
with a chip on his shoulder,
one that was as big,
as a cliff face, boulder.

A Water Lord

See him hover, over river and pond
just like a fairy waving a wand. He looks
quite stunning this graceful thing, flying
around on brightly coloured wing.

A Cry For Help

Dont keep me hidden,
in this dark room,
please show me the sun,
so that I can bloom.