The Ouija Board
In Holmewood a quiet mining village in North Derbyshire
where the terraced houses were still owned by the mine.
There lived a young ex-miner with his wife and children,
and Dennis the father hadn’t worked for sometime.
Concrete floors were laid downstairs because of subsidence,
they had no curtains, carpets, television, or hi-fi.
All their money went on rent, food, and paying bills,
Vera was unhappy, but Dennis couldn’t understand why.
She wanted to move away from the village to Derby,
where opportunities knocked on every ones door.
But Dennis was accustomed to the hardships of mining
and moving away didn’t have the same draw.
He always persuaded Vera that things would get better
and a kiss and cuddle covered his incompetence.
All his ex-miner cronies were in the same boat,
and working for a living to him made no sense.
He’d become lazy and didn’t want the hassle of a new life
unlike many ex-miners who had moved to pastures new.
Many of the young families who rented their houses
were tied to the mine and didn’t know what else to do.
At the end of the main street was the village’s nearest pit,
and on any shift any miner could die.
Throughout the years many men had lost their lives,
and their bodies in the cemetery lie.
The miners’ widows very often came to see Vera
to ask if she would make contact with their dead.
She felt for the community and turned no one away,
and their gratitude helped to pay for the bread.
One night she would organise six people to be together,
in the unlit empty room at the top of the stairs.
Carrying a lit candle, an empty glass and Ouija board,
she would arrange the table and six fold down chairs.
The home made Ouija board lay flat on the table
and in the middle was the upturned glass.
As everyone placed their index finger on the top of it,
Vera whispered for silence for what was about to pass.
They waited whist the candle flame danced and flickered,
again she whispered, “Is anyone there? ”
As the glass moved to letters on the board’s pencilled alphabet,
a confirmation brought a chill to the air.
Vera never once failed to make spiritual contacts,
but always stopped when the ‘evil’ came through.
Whenever the spiritual highway became opened
the same forceful ‘evil’ presence became renewed.
It was obvious they didn’t return and close the highway,
they stayed in the room that was turning black.
Dennis admitted they should move away from the ‘evil’,
because Vera could not to send them back.
The ‘evil ones’ became restless and moved furnishings,
it was frightening and getting worse each night.
Then for no apparent reason the ‘evil’ ones went quiet,
for over six weeks the peace was pure delight.
They hoped their haunting was over and they had gone for good.
Weeks later Vera had a visit from her cousin who was blind.
She hadn’t seen her, or her guide-dog ‘Eyes’ for over a year.
Whilst talking, ‘Eyes’ went upstairs and they paid it no mind.
An open door slammed behind the dog which shook the house,
and filled Dennis with panic, as Vera dashed upstairs.
She tried to enter the bedroom, but the door wouldn’t budge,
Vera shouted, but Dennis was outside, glad to be out of there.
‘Eyes’ was howling and scratching the floor trying to get out,
a split second later Vera heard the sound of breaking glass.
She raced down stairs into the street below the bedroom window;
‘Eyes’ lay still and bleeding amongst the glass he smashed.
‘Eyes’ began to whimper as its wounds seeped with blood,
Vera could hardly speak, as her cousin asked about ‘Eyes’.
‘Eyes’ thankfully recovered, and the family moved to Derby.
The new life was fine until the Ouija was again given a try.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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