Virginia ghost story about haunted Mabry Mill. Written by Alan Spencer.
High atop a Blue Ridge hill lies the venerable Mabry Mill.
It once produced a wonderful bounty
of products sold throughout Floyd County.
For over a century the mill’s been a staple.
Surrounded by trees, oak and maple.
Visitors travel to see this sight
But the real show happens at night.
While all good people are asleep in bed,
this time is active for the dead.
Next to the mill sits a lagoon,
that releases spirits each full moon.
The lagoon is but a shallow basin
but becomes paranormal on a certain occasion.
Three spectral orbs arise from the pond,
ghostly avatars of men long gone.
Each ball of light floats right to the mill.
They penetrate the walls to resume their skill.
In a the old days they worked here to earn some pay
But they no longer can do so during the day.
When alive in daylight they worked with wood and flour.
Now they do so at the witching hour.
The sprits will labor for all eternity,
as the rest of the world advances modernity.
The orbs floated silently into the building.
Walls to ghosts are inadequate shielding.
The balls took a designated place.
Each slowly transformed into a face.
The size of the orbs began to grow
as the rest of the bodies started to show.
Their eyes are sunken, their skin is pale
they look like they’ve come from the depths of hell.
The workers began their shift that night
each took his station as if it were right.
These poor souls are unaware of the passage of time.
To them the year is ninteen hundred and nine.
They still work the mill with the same sense of pride.
Sadly, they do not know that they have died.
Though these old mill workers refuse to die,
they continue to make products no living will buy.
After some time the dawn starts to break.
From the ghosts’ perspective, now it is late.
They’re work “day” is at an end.
If only you could have been there, my friend.
As the sky gradually brightens.
This poem is not meant to frighten
It’s simply a tale about bygone days
that ends with the appearance of sun rays.
The spirits reverse their trip through time’s door
as they revert back into their orbs.
They float through the walls and back to the pond.
As I said before, they’re not truly gone.
They leave because the sun brings in the light.
Alas, they’ll be back in thirty nights.
For more information on Mabry Mill, visit their official site.