Here are two poems I wrote last year around Halloween — The Women in a White Dress and Haunted House. I assure you, the only scary thing about these is how bad they are! Haha!
OK, just kidding. I think these turned out decent and I’m proud of them. They’re not the worst things I’ve ever written. Happy Halloween!
The Women in a White Dress
Rain falls over White Rock Lake
Gentle thunder rumbles the sky
Unusually dark for 8:00 PM
Clouds obstruct the moonlight
Slowly winding around the lake
Headlights frame a distant figure
A woman strolls in a white dress
Alone in the darkness of night
Seeing the approaching headlights
The woman turns to meet my gaze
Blurry through a rainy windshield
She waves and gives a smile of relief
Feeling chivalrous, the car pulls over
“Need a lift?” I ask through the rain
She nods and reaches for the door
Lightning flashes across the black sky
Sitting in the shadow of the backseat
Dark, wet hair hangs over her eyes
“Where to?” I ask, feeling a cold shiver
She points to a house far in the distance
An awkward silence ensues
I can feel her eyes upon me
“Thanks for the ride,” she says at last
In a voice not from around here
Stopping the car in front of the house
I turn around to see an empty backseat
My eyes dart through the pouring rain
The woman in the white dress is gone…
I knock on the door of the house before me
A man answers with suspicion in his eyes
He knows the woman matching the description
She was a daughter who drowned long ago
I always thought it was a silly ghost story
Until that cold, rainy night in October
When visiting White Rock Lake in Dallas
Beware of hitchhikers walking in the rain.
This poem is based on the local ghost story, “The Lady of the Lake.” There are several versions of the story, but it centers around a young woman who drowned at White Rock Lake in Dallas. I’m sure there’s a similar story in your part of the world.
It goes something like this. A good samaritan picks up a woman walking in the rain and offers to give her a ride home. Upon arriving at the house, the driver discovers that the woman is gone, but their car’s back seat is wet. The driver knocks on the front door of the house and a man answers. The young woman who matches the description — the man’s daughter — drowned years ago at White Rock Lake.
Footsteps in the attic are just a mouse
You’re all alone in this great big house
That wasn’t a breath upon your neck
Or maybe it was – you’d better check!
You didn’t hear the floorboards creak
The locked door didn’t give a squeak
It was the wind blowing in the trees
Whispering your name in the breeze
You’d better sleep with lights on tonight
Someone might be there waiting to fright
Pay no attention to the black cat’s meow
Or the little beads of sweat upon your brow
That wasn’t a ghost floating down the hall
You didn’t hear a tapping from inside the wall
It’s your thoughts running through your head
Be sure you check twice under the bed!
No one is standing right behind you
Watching every little thing you do
They won’t be there if you turn to see
But what is and what should not be?
“There’s no such thing as a ghost”
You bravely say aloud and boast
“Don’t worry, you’re having a dream”
Whispers a voice to make you scream!
Poems by Jason S. Sullivan