In that autumnal farm house
My crackling fire blazed;
Alone for weeks, I’d had weird dreams
That frightened and amazed.

November night was raining;
The final days of fall
The forests just beyond dark fields
Held back by a stone wall.

Caretaking the old farmhouse,
Jobless, carless, homebound,
Alone before the glowing hearth
I swore I heard a sound…

Fear then leaped upon me
And paralyzed my mind.
Lights were off in the old Maine house—
My fears were undefined.

And then I heard a music
Like mystery and dread,
Playing low in some shadowed room
And playing with my head.

I swore I heard a rhythm
Faint sounds of flute and bell
Like fairy-frenzy—or the beat
That leads lost souls to hell.

In that autumnal darkness
I huddled by the fire,
But could not shake the terror
Of my panic rising higher.

At last I stood and shouted
The names of Christ in faith;
Flung wide the doors of every room
And banished every wraith.

If God is omnipresent
And Jesus Christ is king
Then why should I be victimized,
Afraid of everything?

The dread transformed to power:
Faith rose to the affair;
No longer haunted, life and peace
Returned to bless the air.

So did it really happen?
Or was my mind deceived
By vitamin deficiencies
As others have believed… ?

PROMPT #24:

write your own poem that takes place at night, and describes something magical or strange