Egypt, that magical place of mystery and superstition. Who could fail to be fascinated by the pyramids? Or the colourful egyptian paintings? I have a fascination for all things egyptian, so I had to base a tale there. Didn't I?

The Amulet.

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She stood there in the noonday sun

while people bustled around,

Her eyes took in the many sights,

her ears heard every sound,

For Egypt was a land of myth

she'd travelled far to see,

Now standing in the marketplace

she set her senses free.

The crowd around her seemed to shift,

a stillness hit the air,

And as if from out of nowhere

she saw her standing there,

Before her was an ancient crone

in rags, with long grey hair,

Her piercing eyes were white and blind,

locked in a vacant stare.

Before she knew quite what to do,

the crone stretched out a hand,

And siezed her wrist in bony grip

that tightened like a band,

And when she tried to pull away

she could not move her arm,

And then the crone with her free hand

dropped something in her palm.

And suddenly she was alone

back in the noonday heat,

With people pressing all around

as she stood in the street,

She thought her mind was playing tricks

brought on by this strange land,

Until she felt the cold hard weight

that rested in her hand.

She saw it was an amulet;

A carving of an eye,

The centre held a round blue stone

that winked up at the sky,

She thrust it deep within her bag

and then she turned to leave,

Soon back at her hotel, she found

she could at long last breathe.

She woke up deep within the night

not sure what was amiss,

Then saw the serpent on her chest

that gave a deadly hiss,

But by then it was much too late

to move, or even yell,

For then the spectre stole her soul

and took it straight to hell.

The next she knew when she awoke

was the oppressive gloom,

Trapped alive under tons of sand,

inside a Pharoah's tomb,

Meanwhile in a town not too far,

a crone with milky eyes

gives a tourist an amulet

that holds a deep surprise.

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It doesn't seem too long ago that it was christmas. Add to that the heavy snowfall we've had since then, and you can really picture this next tale! The good old snowman has been in evidence all over the place recently, and is a firm fun favourite! But just wonder....is there such thing as a bad snowman?

Snowman.

*********

It had been such a hectic day,

what fun he'd had outside!

Excited by the fall of snow;

his first toboggan ride!

He'd built a snowman in the yard,

complete with scarf and hat,

a smile upon his icy face,

his belly round and fat!

And laying now tucked in his bed,

he felt a spurt of pride,

and had to have just one more look

at what he'd built outside!

He tiptoed to the window pane

as quiet as a mouse,

he must not wake his family

all sleeping in the house.

The moon shone on the snow outside

that sparkled pure and bright,

his eyes took in this wonderland

and widened in delight!

But then he noticed something wrong;

a frown crept on his face,

for where the snowman should have stood

was just an empty space!

He felt hot tears prick at his eyes

as he rushed from the room,

and pausing just to push on shoes

he ran out in the gloom.

But though he searched the yard three times

till cold nipped at his face,

his precious snowman wasn't there;

It had gone without a trace!

His shoulders slumping in defeat,

in tears that made him blind,

He almost yelped when something cold

fell on him from behind!

He turned around and there he was,

his face lit with a grin,

the button eyes that gleamed so bright

as if lit from within.

The snowman reached an icy hand

and gripped the boy so tight,

and turning back towards the yard

they walked into the night.

And sometime later, with the dawn

there came an awful shout,

The boy was missing from his bed,

had someone forced him out?

And though they searched for many a mile,

he did not come to light,

with not a clue to help them solve

what happened in the night.

And in the yard, two snowmen stand,

their icy faces gleam,

The smaller one has holes for eyes

and mouth formed in a scream.

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