Old Ben?

     Growing up on the coast brought me many old stories, legends and strange tales.  My Grampa Les was quite the story teller, and often sent chills up my spine, so I wrote this to him:

                                  The walk in the daytime

                                   was lovely, for the sun
                                   caused  the tiny ripples
                                   on the water to sparkle
                                   like some rare gems from
                                   the sea,
                                   But at night, the tall trees
                                   seem to block out the moonlight
                                   that might have kept the jewels
                                   sparkling if I could have seen
                                   them.
                                   An eerie moan comes from the wind as
                                   as it tries to part the branches to get
                                   a better look at what is happening
                                   below.
                                   Perhaps Old Ben will make his rounds
                                   to seek out the one who had cheated on him
                                   so long ago.  I quicken my pace now
                                   for my grandfather had once told of Old Ben
                                   searching and mumbling words that
                                   only the wind can understand.