Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 7, 2014

Millers Mountain~by rldubour



Millers Mountain


The air was cold, the path was light

As I walked up Millers Mountain that night.

Off in the distance I could still see the cabin lights.

Then the going got rough, each step was a fight.

The moon was so bright for a moment or two.

Now it was fading a storm was in brew.

I hoped I could get there quickly enough.

But in two feet of snow the going was rough.

My fingers were frozen my boots were like ice.

A blizzard before me I could not see the lights.

Fear now did have me I filled with despair.

I could not see the cabin it just was not there.


The howling wind felt like a piercing knife.

As I fell to my knees on Millers Mountain that night.

Anxiety building what was my plight?

I could not see the cabin, could not see the lights.

My body was freezing yet I felt like on fire.

My bones are now aching can’t let myself tire.

Getting confused in this over powering snow.

Disorientated, don’t know which way to go.

My strength is now gone my body too weak.

If I give up now I fear I will go to sleep.

Only twenty more feet I heard a voice say.

But I did not make it, the Reaper took me away.


Now I am doomed to follow that path.

Each time it storms I have to make the same track.

My spirit relives Millers Mountain that night.

Only twenty more steps I could have saved my own life.

The snow was so blinding and I could not see.

Forever, on Millers Mountain I am destined to be.

I try to warn any stranger that walks up that path.

Of the impending storm and they better turn back.

If they value their life and here what I say.

I will turn them around to be saved from their grave.

My ghostly figure has warned them for years.

Of the storm on Millers Mountain, they all better fear!

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