Wednesday, 16 December 2009

Golden Arm - A Ghost Story

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

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