The Park
She went out to play in the park, in the dark,
Though her father had cautioned her not to go there.
She laughed at his fears, and she thought it a lark
To go tripping and skipping where he wouldn’t dare.
She followed a path in the park, in the dark,
That led to some bushes of ogreish shape,
And trees that had red, glowing eyes in their bark -
Their branches ensnared her, she could not escape.
No trace of her body could ever be found,
Though they searched in the bushes again and again.
But her clothing was scattered around on the ground,
And her white linen blouse had a terrible stain.
Her father still searches while everyone sleeps,
And he claims to have spotted her ghost in the park,
A pitiful figure that murmurs and weeps,
“Oh, don’t go alone to the park in the dark!”

Brian Allgar

If you have any comments on this poem, Brian Allgar would be pleased to hear from you.