Succumbed to the Sandman

by Lisa Griffiths

Should have listened to what my father said
His words of wisdom fell on deaf ears
“Stay away from Red Glen or you’ll be dead.”
But I was young and had no fears
 
He tried and tried to make me understand
The evil that lurked beyond the trees
“A spirit,” he said, “who commands the sand
“And brings the strong down on their knees.”
 
Still, I was brave or so I thought
With wit and strength to spare
His admonitions were all for naught
With youth, I have no need for care
 
Came the day curiosity took hold
So through the woods I did go
To prove a point it must be told
No fear of spirit I would show
 
Many miles walked and the sun did set
The wind did howl and air felt crisp
My eyes and yonder firelight met
“Oh my,” I said, “a will-o-the-wisp!”
 
I followed it and off it led
To the glen of red and all its glory
My heart began a thump of dread
“This can’t be real, it must be story.”
 
A man stood before me made of fog
His voice quite charming, it dripped with honey
And beckoned to me from across the bog
“I’ll give you gifts and lots of money.”
 
He walked atop the marsh I saw
And waved me to come closer
My brain did seem in need of thaw
A part of me cried, “No, sir!”
 
But on I walked, yard by yard
Then sand turned liquid in short span
Sinking softly, no longer hard
I had succumbed to the sandman

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