The Fell Spirit


Speak to those who’ve walked the Fells
They’ll tell of a woman, fair and wise
With shining hair, a laugh of bells
And a smile that doesn’t reach the eyes
Who walks the wooded glens and sings
Of sparrows, elk, and growing things

Speak to the men in the officer’s club
Of the woman found in the morass
Whose eyes and throat were stuffed with scrub
And never again will smile, alas
For now her only silhouette
Will be her grave, dear Margaret

Margaret’s ghost is haunting the Fells. Her spirit seems benign, but loathe to speak of her past. The manner of her death shouts supernatural, but who killed her, and why? What is it that Margaret knows? And what else is lurking in the Fells?



Summer Games williamstome