…older man from Scotland drank a pint of whiskey; neat.

And wandering off the known path home, was swallowed by the peat.

The earthy taste of scotch now on his tongue forever more

His spirit haunts the pubs about as ghostly local lore.

The simple-minded townsfolk swear they’d felt his presence still

When, after dark, inside their hearts they’d feel an icy chill.

A drenched and musty smelling form appeared with reaching hand

To clutch at souls of sinners who might dwell within this land.

To venture out at night upon the streets of Aberdeen

Your mind should not be…

By James Geehring

…enamored, of a skill I just did find,
it seems I have a talent, building castles in my mind.
Of course, there is a drawbridge, portcullis and a moat,
and mail clad guards in armour, of whom legends could be wrote.

The mossy stones that form the walls, are weathered but quite stout,
protecting all who dwell within, while keeping evil out.
My castle does not dominate some lonely, craggy moor,
but rather sits within a glade, beside a lake's still shore.

The fragrance of the flowers, whose fields abut the woods,
wafts through open windows, while the merchants ply…

By James Geehring