Golden Arm - A ghost story
by Leighroy Marsh
This is a tale that my Grandad told me,
As I sat as a child on his old bony knee
It isn’t a tale full of joy or of charm,
But a tale full of woe and a stolen gold arm
You should stop reading now if you easily spook
You should stand up and choose a more friendlier book
You should stop reading now if you don’t like to JUMPBecause this is a tale that will make your heart thump
Its starts long ago with poor Montague Law
Who was missing an arm, when he returned from the war
He lost it at battle, defending the king
Along with his bracelet, his wristwatch and ring
The king was quite grateful, and pulled out his sword
Pointed at Monty – and made him a Lord
Lord Montague Law, the Brave and the bold
I’ll reward you again with an arm made of gold.
And so he returned to his wife and his farm,
With a chestful of medals and a solid gold arm
Where he kept it on show in a special glass box
Next to his trousers, his jumpers and socks
The years soon passed by, and Lord Monty took ill
And despite all the potions and lotions and pills
Old Montague knew that his time had arrived
So he called from his bed for his beautiful bride
The angels are calling, I don’t have much time
And so I am leaving you all that is mine
You can have all that belongs to the farm
As long as you bury me with my gold arm.
Lord Montague’s wife said she’d do what she’s told
And bury her husband along with his gold
But deep down she knew what she could do instead
And in place of the arm, She would bury some bread
And that very night, Lord Montague died,
With his wife feeling saddened alone by his side
Then she rolled up her sleeves and brought flour from the barn
And baked through the night, a quite tasty bread arm
Nobody noticed his arm was a dud
If fact they all said that he smelt rather good
As they lowered Lord Montague’s box in the hole
Then left the poor widow alone, unconsoled.
But the tears that she cried were really of glee
She could sell the gold arm for a million or three
And spend all the money on trinkets and rings
A car and a castle and a few other things
She thought of the things that she wanted the most
As she sat at the table eating her toast
She wondered if she had committed a crime
Then decided aloud that the “arm should be mine”
From the cellar downstairs, she heard a door creak
“Is there somebody there” she wanted to speak
But the toast was quite dry, and it stuck in her throat
So she picked up the lantern and put on her coat
Its probably the wind she thought to herself
As she reached for the keys on the top of the shelf
She pulled on the handle and opened the door
And shined the light down on the cold cellar floor
The kitchen grew colder and the fire didn’t flicker
The wind started howling and yowling much quicker
Lord Monty’s wife, looked round at her home
And got the strange feeling she not on her own
Her face turned an ashen, pale, light shade of yellow
As she heard the voice growl from the bowels of the cellar
A voice full of menace and full of alarm
That repeated quite softly" Where is my arm"
What was that sound? Was it really his ghost?
As she nibbled and nibbled on the cold piece of toast
The thump, and the thud, of the feet on the stairs
The type of sound found in the darkest nightmares.
And now the voice called from behind the closed door
The ghost of her husband? but could she be sure?
She turned the key quick and made sure it was locked
As the ghost clenched his fist and he knocked and he knocked.
There was a crash, as the door to the cellar gave way
And the ghost of Lord Monty looked in with dismay,
His voiced echoed wildly and cut through the calm,
What did you do?, oh my dear, with my arm?
The widow was scared and she started to shiver
Her legs turned to jelly, her hands were a quiver
She fell to her knees and repeated her prayers
And then quick as a flash – she legged it upstairs
................................................................................
Find out what happens to Lord Montague's Wife in " Spooky Stories" due for publication on Halloween 2010
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Monday, 14 December 2009
Text - Plugs .....Rock and Roll.
http://www.hairyplugmonster.com
Another successful week of promoting the book started with on Monday phoning up the schools in the local area again in a bid to fill next years calender with readings. (which I am happy to say is slowly filling at a pleasurable rate).
The word is definitely out regarding the book amongst schoolkids, and coupled with a successful craft fair on Thursday at Great Moor and then a reading that afternoon, I almost felt like a celebrity. A few of the children recognised me in the playground afterwards as I was collecting my daughter, pointing and saying
" look daddy that man's an author"
- Text, Plugs and Rock and Roll.
"Golden Arm" is coming along really well, and I am almost pushing 15 verses - which for me isn't bad. I have set myself the task of finishing it by Thursday so I can read it to the children of Adswood Primary School the following day ( they are the official critics of my work).
If inspiration allows I might even be able to cobble together a Christmas Plug Monster tale in time for the big day, as the opportunity for the HPM and all those cake and pies is far too good to miss.
My reading at Waterstones in Stockport went well, with almost all of the copies being sold again, despite a lack of children in the store. The Waterstones staff seemed to like it, which I suppose counts for a lot.
In between sales I busied myself going through the works of the competition, and must have read about 20 or so picture books - and without wishing to sound too over confident,
"My book rocks !!!".
So much so that I stalked a few unsuspecting parents and grandma's who were out doing their last bits of Christmas shopping, and each time one of them approached the children's book section I offered them a card and a copy of the Hairy Plug Monster to read as a valid alternative to other equally appealing works.
The talks with the Japanese seem to have stalled a bit with the HPM appearing to be a tad undesirable for the Japanese sensitivities, although unsurprisingly the Australians were a lot more receptive.
I can't really go into too much detail yet because its all waffle at the moment, but rumour has it that something more concrete may be on the horizon. One thing which does look like happening is the commissioning of new specialised works for the Japanese markets, albeit slightly removed from my usual style and a bit more sanitized and watered down.
No "burps" and no "slurps".
I will let you know more in January.
Another successful week of promoting the book started with on Monday phoning up the schools in the local area again in a bid to fill next years calender with readings. (which I am happy to say is slowly filling at a pleasurable rate).
The word is definitely out regarding the book amongst schoolkids, and coupled with a successful craft fair on Thursday at Great Moor and then a reading that afternoon, I almost felt like a celebrity. A few of the children recognised me in the playground afterwards as I was collecting my daughter, pointing and saying
" look daddy that man's an author"
- Text, Plugs and Rock and Roll.
"Golden Arm" is coming along really well, and I am almost pushing 15 verses - which for me isn't bad. I have set myself the task of finishing it by Thursday so I can read it to the children of Adswood Primary School the following day ( they are the official critics of my work).
If inspiration allows I might even be able to cobble together a Christmas Plug Monster tale in time for the big day, as the opportunity for the HPM and all those cake and pies is far too good to miss.
My reading at Waterstones in Stockport went well, with almost all of the copies being sold again, despite a lack of children in the store. The Waterstones staff seemed to like it, which I suppose counts for a lot.
In between sales I busied myself going through the works of the competition, and must have read about 20 or so picture books - and without wishing to sound too over confident,
"My book rocks !!!".
So much so that I stalked a few unsuspecting parents and grandma's who were out doing their last bits of Christmas shopping, and each time one of them approached the children's book section I offered them a card and a copy of the Hairy Plug Monster to read as a valid alternative to other equally appealing works.
The talks with the Japanese seem to have stalled a bit with the HPM appearing to be a tad undesirable for the Japanese sensitivities, although unsurprisingly the Australians were a lot more receptive.
I can't really go into too much detail yet because its all waffle at the moment, but rumour has it that something more concrete may be on the horizon. One thing which does look like happening is the commissioning of new specialised works for the Japanese markets, albeit slightly removed from my usual style and a bit more sanitized and watered down.
No "burps" and no "slurps".
I will let you know more in January.
Sunday, 6 December 2009
A few sample verses from Golden Arm... a kids horror story
I am at the beginning of another poem, but am not too sure whether it may be too scary for children, here are a couple of verses - I would be very interested to know what you think.
Its not set in stone yet, so a lot of this may change. Its based on a ghost story that I was told when I was about 5 or 6 and have never forgotten.
There is an old general who loses his arm in the war and has it replaced with an arm made of gold. On his death bed he demands that his wife burries the arm with him and the wife reluctantly agrees. However his wife doesn't want to see that much gold disappear forever, so she digs up his grave and takes the arm back and that very same evening the ghost of her husband returns to reclaim his arm.
The verses below are when the wife realises she is not alone in the house.
Her face turned an ashen, pale, light shade of yellow
As she heard the voice growl from the bowels of the cellar
A voice full of menace and full of alarm
That repeated quite softly
" Where is my arm"
What was that sound? Was it really his ghost?
As she nibbled and nibbled on the cold piece of toast
The thump, and the thud, of the feet on the stairs
The type of sound found in your darkest nightmares.
And now the voice called from behind the closed door
The ghost of her husband? but could she be sure?
She turned the key quick and made sure it was locked
As the ghost clenched his fist and he knocked and he knocked.
As I said its just a doodle at the moment, but I would love to finish it and read it out to a slightly older audience. As you can imagine there is a punchline. that will hopefully scare the Bjeezus out of the listener.
Its not set in stone yet, so a lot of this may change. Its based on a ghost story that I was told when I was about 5 or 6 and have never forgotten.
There is an old general who loses his arm in the war and has it replaced with an arm made of gold. On his death bed he demands that his wife burries the arm with him and the wife reluctantly agrees. However his wife doesn't want to see that much gold disappear forever, so she digs up his grave and takes the arm back and that very same evening the ghost of her husband returns to reclaim his arm.
The verses below are when the wife realises she is not alone in the house.
Her face turned an ashen, pale, light shade of yellow
As she heard the voice growl from the bowels of the cellar
A voice full of menace and full of alarm
That repeated quite softly
" Where is my arm"
What was that sound? Was it really his ghost?
As she nibbled and nibbled on the cold piece of toast
The thump, and the thud, of the feet on the stairs
The type of sound found in your darkest nightmares.
And now the voice called from behind the closed door
The ghost of her husband? but could she be sure?
She turned the key quick and made sure it was locked
As the ghost clenched his fist and he knocked and he knocked.
As I said its just a doodle at the moment, but I would love to finish it and read it out to a slightly older audience. As you can imagine there is a punchline. that will hopefully scare the Bjeezus out of the listener.
Saturday, 5 December 2009
After all these years, I think I have found the perfect job!!
This week, it all fell into place. After spending years trying to find where I am supposed to fit -I finally found the answer.
Write kids stories, take them to schools, read them to kids and write more stories.
It is simple - in fact I am a bit gutted that I haven't thought of it before. This week found me ringing up the schools in the local area one by one ( just like telesales) and asking whether they would be interested in me attending (as an author ) and reading my book the their pupils. And slowly but surely I have started taking bookings for readings at the schools.
The diary is slowly starting to fill up with readings booked for
10th Dec at Great Moor
17th Dec at Ladybrook School
with an additional 3 more in January, which I have no doubt I will add to. I think once the Christmas term is over It should be easier to get schools interested - I mean after all it's not as if I am battling with an army of other authors.
The two that I visited this week, had stark differences in their makeup but the results were the same - The children loved The Hairy Plug Monster. Again my timing is a bit off, as I am competing with Christmas fairs, carol services and nativity plays, but regardless -I visited St - Bernadette's RC School in Brinnington and Mersey Vale in Heaton Mersey and again saw the eyes of the KS1 children open as they heard about the exploits of the Monster that lives under the bath.
Kul Cuthbert is featured in the Thursday edition of the Manchester Evening News which should raise the profile of the book just before Christmas.
Everything is looking good for the coming new year, regardless of what happens in Japan.
Write kids stories, take them to schools, read them to kids and write more stories.
It is simple - in fact I am a bit gutted that I haven't thought of it before. This week found me ringing up the schools in the local area one by one ( just like telesales) and asking whether they would be interested in me attending (as an author ) and reading my book the their pupils. And slowly but surely I have started taking bookings for readings at the schools.
The diary is slowly starting to fill up with readings booked for
10th Dec at Great Moor
17th Dec at Ladybrook School
with an additional 3 more in January, which I have no doubt I will add to. I think once the Christmas term is over It should be easier to get schools interested - I mean after all it's not as if I am battling with an army of other authors.
The two that I visited this week, had stark differences in their makeup but the results were the same - The children loved The Hairy Plug Monster. Again my timing is a bit off, as I am competing with Christmas fairs, carol services and nativity plays, but regardless -I visited St - Bernadette's RC School in Brinnington and Mersey Vale in Heaton Mersey and again saw the eyes of the KS1 children open as they heard about the exploits of the Monster that lives under the bath.
Kul Cuthbert is featured in the Thursday edition of the Manchester Evening News which should raise the profile of the book just before Christmas.
Everything is looking good for the coming new year, regardless of what happens in Japan.
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