Old Man Marsh


Franklyn Searight

Don't shudder when you see him on the street;
Just saunter by and calmly wend your way.
Don't let him think he frightens you one bit;
Don't even nod or wish to him good day.
Down at the town's refin'ry you will find
Him tending daily to his chosen trade.
It's there strange jewelry's taken, melted down,
And fourteen carot golden ingots made.
Don't stare for long at gloves he needs to wear
To keep the webbing 'tween his fingers hid,
Or peak beneath the high top hat he wears
Like one sad wretch, now six feet under, did.


© 1999 Edward P. Berglund
"Folks of Innsmouth: Old Man Marsh": © 1999 Franklyn Searight. All rights reserved.
Graphic © 1999 Erebus Graphic Design. All rights reserved. Email to: James V. Kracht.

Created: December 5, 1999; Updated: August 9, 2004