Weighty Waiting

A week was spent with no heat;
my old boiler had had enough.
Perhaps it was just a test;
to see if we are old house tough.
~
The temperature dropped into the teens,
we also had some snow.
We huddled in the kitchen;
basking in the old stove’s glow.
~
Now the boiler’s been replaced,
our cold feet are now a memory.
Now which shoe will drop next,
we’ll just have to wait and see.

~*~
SCK012522

Clueless

I heard a story when I was away.
It happened last year on New Year’s Day.
A man and his wife went out for a walk.
The beach was deserted, they had a talk.
~
No one knew what the two spoke about.
But it didn’t take long for them to shout.
The women ran back and checked out in haste.
The man was gone, his existence erased.
~
The spa was closed and the police had a look.
A comb was found with a watch and a book.
The detective knew that everything’s a clue,
later that day they found a lone shoe.
~
The sun soon setting, the search had to wait.
The police returned the next day before eight.
Records were checked and fingerprints taken.
Nothing was found but the detective unshaken.
~
Seems the couple paid everything in cash.
The deputy examined all of the trash.
The book, he exclaimed, the best clue they had.
There was also the shoe but that smelled bad.
~
The watch looked expensive but not all that nice.
The comb was filthy and covered with lice.
The detective re-examined all of the clues.
The phone then rang, he hoped for good news.
~
A body washed up on the beach overnight.
By the look of his face he lost a good fight.
The detective, excited, rushed to his car.
He arrived in minutes, it wasn’t that far.
~
Although disappointed when he finally got there.
The man had a watch but he had no hair.
One thing’s for certain, he was missing a shoe.
It was a little too late but now he had two.
~
Now two crimes to solve and surely related,
there’d be no rest until the criminal’s located.
Days soon passed but nothing new discovered.
A report then arrived saying the victim was smothered.
~
The man was attacked but surely not robbed.
The deputy was called and confessed while he sobbed.
The woman in question was the deputy’s wife.
The dead guy, her lover, had come with a knife.
~
The deputy, of course, had worn a disguise.
But tans are evident in those warm, sunny skies.
His wife’s still missing but his watch returned,
it covered the place on his arm not burned.
~
The book and the comb, both common beach finds,
returned to the spa and their curious minds.
Apparently I read it but the plot was old.
The next day I heard a more chilling story told.

~*~
SCK010122

Figmented

In a little town not far from here,
there lived a star, a puppeteer.
She entertained children near and far.
While her husband played his old guitar.
~
The puppets danced and the kids all giggled.
The guitarist sang and everyone wiggled.
But behind the show’s curtain of green,
the puppeteer performs, always unseen.
~
But she’s not sad, she’s quite content,
the shows always fun and it pays the rent.
Their home life is great with two cats and a dog.
And in a pond nearby they had a pet frog.
~
Their children, now grown and moved far away,
but they all get together for Christmas day.
The tree lit up bright and gifts piled high.
They await the sunrise in the cold winter sky.
~
First up’s the grandkids, it’s time to explore.
Next was the dog that sleeps by the door.
The children were silent peaking at the gifts.
Each on lookout in five minute shifts.
~
Tape’s gently pulled and corners peeled back,
they had to work fast to get through the stack.
The children were careful to not make a mess,
because if caught, next year there’d be less.
~
It didn’t take long for them to realize,
the presents were fake and the pets were spies.
The children panicked and ran back to their beds,
to dream once more of dolls, blocks and sleds.
~
But the parents sat waiting at the top of the stairs.
The kids now caught broke down in tears.
They ruined Christmas and the parents were mad.
The grandparents were disappointed and that was sad.
~
A lecture was given while breakfast they ate.
Grandma’s lesson was that good things are worth the wait.
And that things are not always as they appear,
you can take it from her, she’s a puppeteer.
~
Breakfast was finished at a leisurely pace.
Anticipation beamed from everyone’s face.
Then a puppet appeared dressed as Santa Claus,
who passed out presents to much applause.

~*~
SCK022321

The Fragrance of Fickle Follies

Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
~
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
~
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.

~*~
SCK020319

Pencilicillin

I think my pencil’s broken,
nothing’s coming out.
I’ve tried lots of paper,
now I’m feeling doubt.
~
Could it be a dream,
the writing that I’ve done?
Or perhaps a nightmare,
this time I’ve spent as one.
~
I wake up every morning,
before the sun will rise.
My chair awaits its ass,
glasses await their eyes.
~
Coffee I will slurp,
watching hours burn.
If I were a younger man,
it’d be of less concern.
~
Time is not to waste,
though I shouldn’t squawk.
My pencils served me well,
though I may try chalk.
~
I know I need my fix,
words do the trick.
Perhaps I’m not a poet,
just really, really sick.

~*~
SCK062520

Left Behind

Lost in a wandering state of mind,
returning to memories I thought left behind.
A campground awaits from decades of yore,
There’s a lake nearby and nature galore.

Summers there filled with family and friends,
as the specter of youth unknowingly ends.
The journey’s now short to a time long past.
My cabin soon appears while the sun fades fast.

The sky was clear, blues deepened to black.
The stars shone bright, they welcomed me back.
I relaxed on the porch and sipped iced tea,
my friends due tomorrow the night was for me.

With waning moon the damp mist rose,
crickets serenaded, eyes started to close.
Blissful sensations then the start of dreams,
when startled was I by familiar screams.

Dolly, Dolly, Dolly! was all she ever said,
her childhood taunts now flooding my head.
She’s the ghostly remains of horrors we’d share.
The truth is haunting when better a nightmare.

She would scratch at the screen above my bed.
I’d shriek and shiver and cower with dread.
Mornings would come, I’d report of my fright,
“that little girl’s ghost came to take me last night”.

My brothers would tease and mom consoled,
dad says they’re figments of tales I’ve been told.
But when evenings cool and crescent moon high,
dense fog rose and that child would cry.

Dolly, dolly, dolly is all she would say,
Her bony hand summoned and pointed the way.
Never dared I answer her mournful request.
Silently I’d wait, ignoring my guest.

It’s been many years since last we met.
Time I’ve tried hard, but to never forget.
Now I’ve matured and conscience will decide.
Am I to seek or again shall I hide?

I know not what of this phantoms despair.
Yet together there’s grief we seemingly share.
Her woe is death while mine’s the living.
Each is assured though neither forgiving.

Our paths have crossed, all have an end.
My choice is made by this spirited friend.
With eyes open wide follow I must,
forsaking not, that lost child’s trust.

I rose and leaned forward, held out my hand.
Our fate’s to obey and to command.
We dashed through the field and into the woods.
A moment imagined of pleasant childhoods.

Each step echoes with brittle twig snap.
Till the shadows of trees soon overlap.
To guide my way mere slivers of light,
pursuing my phantom into the night.

Thicket and bramble claw at my skin,
bleeding the courage from deep within.
The worn paths end at fresh fallen leaf,
this forest beyond, beyond my belief.

Spirits roam free where the living don’t tread.
My friend had returned to her life of the dead.
I wished again to hide safe behind closed eyes,
trading this vision for dreams of blue skies.

The girl then pointed at boulders stacked high,
interwoven with brush to hide from the eye.
All layers of shadow, grays deepened to black,
foretelling the depth of crevice and crack.

Her hazy glow grew brighter, eyes more intense,
repeated cries for dolly now making sense.
She’s lost a dear friend and I’m chosen to find.
To abandon now this child was beyond unkind.

Exited are we, our quest’s nearly done.
‘Twas a test of persistence, both surely won.
My mind’s now a flutter, heart beating proud,
grasping in darkness through thick thorny shroud.

Our search going well till that last step was taken,
the ground then vanished, I was tumbled and shaken.
I awoke sometime later to whispers, mumbles and cries.
My new friend stood close as I opened my eyes.

I saw Dolly held tightly and a bustle nearby.
Mourners had grouped where a still body lie.
A lifeless figure with a familiar shape and size.
The live too are familiar, all saying goodbyes.

The little girl thanked me for my many good deeds.
As slowly she faded having found what she needs.
I begged to be taken for I’ve been truly kind.
When last she said “You need first find needs left behind.”

.
Sck021616

In the Web

It fogs my thoughts and ruins my sleep.
I now count likes because I’m the sheep.
Powerless for a day and I went insane,
I think the web’s controlling my brain.
~
I spend many hours checking the news.
Then I research the reasons for my blues.
The puzzled web of opinions never ends.
And I’ve games galore so I don’t need friends
~
I can take lots of photos no one will see,
recording things that were important to me.
I can compose emails and send a text,
then constantly wait for what comes next.
~
I can phone in my car with maps on the screen.
The music’s unlimited and videos seen,
I can cast to TV and see it large.
But I need a break; it’s time for a charge.

~*~
SCK041121

Dusk to Dread

Monsters prowled the darkened streets.
The time was theirs to search for treats.
Deny their cravings if you dare,
but tricks certain for the unaware.
~
The moon was full and fog was thick.
This night they’ll feast, tomorrow sick.
Ghosts and goblins in shadows hide.
Porch lights flicker but stay outside.
~
Fairies welcome and clowns make fun.
Pirates afloat grab treasure and run.
Mummies abound wait for their turn.
Witches swoop to take what they yearn.
~
Werewolves howl barking desires.
The shrunken in wagons mostly criers.
Superheroes patrol to keep things in line.
The things all laugh cos their doing fine.
~
The much larger zombies follow the pack.
They beg and plead for an unwanted snack.
The air grew cooler, the end was near.
Then sleep soon ended another nightmare.

~*~
SCK102320

Keeping Spirits

Nature batters, scarring far and wide.
Forgotten battles forever tied.
Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.
Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.

Keeping the wary from a watery hell,
a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.
Keeping by day his glass shined bright,
by night he keeps his flame alight.

Warning all comers never to near,
this beacon of virtue is only to fear.
Bravely they stand against wind and wave,
the ocean master, keeper slave.

Chores of many, companions none.
Sleep begins when work is done.
Ventures end before the dark.
His light stands silent awaiting spark.

Beyond this rock and choppy cove,
a small town lie where tales are wove.
Stories of stormy seas abound,
and faraway lands where treasure’s found.

In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.
Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.
Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.
His row is long to return to his fire.

Scores of seasons drifted behind.
The keeper and kept, two of a kind.
Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.
Keeping kept the keepers call.

Reflections of stars upon the sea.
Infinite horizons awaiting he.
A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.
To see the light the keep did go.

The town sad for their keeper unknown.
He was buried with care as one of their own.
At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.
With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.

Dozens of keepers tried to keep.
All had left quickly, missing their sleep.
Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.
A most spirited and demanding of host.

He rattled windows and slammed doors,
once hid away the old rowboats oars.
His steps are heard on the stairs all night,
sometimes blowing out the lighthouse’s light.

On a chilly morn some years past,
a storm was brewing, approaching fast.
A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,
racing the waves ahead of the night.

With setting sun and drenching rain,
wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.
Shores altered with the rising tide,
The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.

The keeper’s remains returned to sea.
The young sailor now keeps – happily.
And ever since that fateful day,
the old keeps spirit kept at bay.

Sck102415dft

Sweet Dreams

Monsters and ghouls prowl the street.
Ghosts hide beneath their sheet.
Zombies limp on bloody feet.
All are happy when they meet.
~
Black cats blend to be discreet.
Witches conjure but never cheat.
Werewolf’s howl when they greet.
All awaiting their Halloween treat.
~
Children rush for goodies to eat.
Parents long to take a seat.
Then the spell’s finally complete,
ending with dreams so sweet.

~*~
SCK103019

Dead Tired

.
Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Under Where!

A big scary monster lives under my bed.
I never saw their body but maybe saw their head.
Every night they whisper when I try to sleep.
But when my mom comes in she doesn’t hear a peep.
~
My dad moved my bed and even switched my room.
But it didn’t really matter, my nights still filled with gloom.
They brought me to a doctor to get my head checked out.
They said that they found nothing, but I still have my doubt.
~
My sister teases me just like the kids at school.
She says that I’m a baby and being scared isn’t cool.
Every day on the bus the kids all laugh at my expense.
But I know I’m right and I think that they’re all dense.
~
My teacher thinks I’m crazy and doesn’t talk to me.
She says that I’m disruptive and that school isn’t free.
The principal just smiles and asks “how’s my day?”
But when I try to tell her she always walks away.
~
When the school bell rings I can’t wait to get outside.
But the bus’s always there and there’s nowhere I can hide.
It’s good the ride is short and soon it’ll be done.
My mom will be waiting and she’ll ask if I had fun.
~
I’ll tell her no and that I had gotten teased.
She’ll make her twisty face and say that she’s not pleased.
I hold her hand tightly and we both walk back inside.
She’ll help me with my homework until my brain is fried.
~
Then we share a snack before a visit from my friend.
We’ll talk a bunch till supper but then the fun will end.
I’m glad to have a friend who listens every day.
They hear the same old stories, even though they’d rather play.
~
Next we eat our supper then I’ll suffer through a bath.
Bedtime must be coming soon and another night of wrath.
My door mostly closed and my nightlight’s set on high,
I rest with one eye open and watch the moon rise in the sky.
~
When the moon got small my eyes began to close.
The monster then tried to eat me and it started with my toes.
But finally the nightmare is over and yes I was wrong.
There was no scary monster; it was just my cat all along.

~*~
SCK090820

Haunting

The sun’s rising yet I’ve no rest,
another day a gruesome test.
The Reaper lurks on their quest,
spirits chide full of zest.
~
The nightmare over now the pain,
screams and howls fill my brain.
The constant fright drives me insane.
Ghosts taunt with no refrain.
~
The hour’s burn like gasoline,
agony fills the time between.
The past haunts a future unseen.
Is this life or Halloween?

~*~
SCK102420

Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
SCK070520

Unquestionable Quest

I’m on a quest for a treasure chest.
No pirate will stand in my way.
My maps were all in order.
My journey started that day.
~
My ship was ready to sail.
The sky was blue and clear.
The breeze filled my lungs.
The time was growing near.
~
Sunset ended a beautiful day.
Then the wind began to blow.
The rain soon was drenching.
My crew all hid below.
~
I manned the helm alone.
The sails I couldn’t adjust.
Lost and tossed in darkness.
I had to better my best.
~
The night felt never-ending.
My eyes began to close.
The air grew bitterly cold.
I couldn’t feel my toes.
~
Sunrise was surely welcome.
The rain began to wane.
The crew decided to join me.
They saw I was in pain.
~
I ate a hearty breakfast.
Then they all began to clean.
My sails were all mended.
The best I’d ever seen.
~
Spirits returned to normal.
Good cheer was felt by all.
Then days dragged on forever.
Soon it would be the fall.
~

The navigator came on deck.
He had some terrible news.
Our location was unknown.
The maps shed no clues.
~
Half whispered of a mutiny.
The rest was on my side.
Surprise was on their faces.
The fear they couldn’t hide.
~
The crew grew more impatient.
Our quest should’ve been done.
The lookout then spied an island.
It glowed in the noon day sun.
~
The boats then quickly lowered.
My crew abandoned ship.
I left standing all alone.
I wished to end this trip.
~
Another month had passed.
Then a ship came into view.
I was now found safe.
But no word of my crew.
~
I was angry for their failure.
I thought I was to die.
For this quest was sure to fail.
When the crew was only I.
~
I hope a lesson learned.
That help we all will need.
And me, myself and I,
always sounds like greed.
~
My quest is not forgotten.
A new ship I will find.
A new crew will be hired.
And to them I’ll be more kind.

~*~
SCK102620

Wizardly

In distant lands where wizards wandered,
a time of yore when magicians pondered;
a challenge was made by an illusionist of note,
shrouded in mystery and a long black coat,
~
The gifted were called to show their great skills.
But the contest prohibited charlatans and shills.
Prizes guaranteed and the winners get gold.
So come, one and all, both young and old.
~
Signs were posted all over the town.
Flyers distributed by a gal in a gown.
Entertainments galore and food aplenty,
there’s games for all, bet one win twenty.
~
The festival starts in two weeks’ time,
dancers await with jesters and a mime.
The town square was chosen for its large size.
The old mayor agreed but thought it unwise.
~
The time finally came and the lines grew long.
Musicians ushered with an enchanting song.
The adults drank heartily and the kids guzzled juice.
The sun was setting and the town felt loose.
~
Coins flowed freely and senses had a feast.
Scraps could be tossed to the fiercest of beasts.
Wrestlers tangled and the jugglers caught on.
Clowns peddled emotion and one had a swan.
~
The main event planned for nine on the dot.
Buy tickets early and reserve your spot.
Amazement ensured by the magical guests.
Great talents conjured for their enriching test.
~
The show started with a man in a hat.
His rabbit disappeared but that was that.
Next, a woman in a bright red cape,
she aimed darts at her husband holding a grape.
~
She only missed once but that was too much.
But now we know why he walks with a crutch.
The rest of the show was much the same.
Amateurs all whose tricks were all lame.
~
Last was the illusionist and the crowd all cheered.
But in a big puff of smoke they soon disappeared.
The crowd all clapped but thought there was more.
Was the show over? No one was sure.
~
The crowd grew feisty and refunds requested.
The contestants were angry and they too protested.
The search was on for this illusionist of note.
A rumor was spread they left with a tote.
~
Prizes not awarded and vendors unpaid,
workers left hanging and the square’s rent unmade.
The mayor too was missing, a plot was surmised.
Was the mayor the illusionist just well disguised?
~
Did he steal the money and then disappear?
Or was he a partner and a rank profiteer?
A week soon passed and all hopes grew dim.
Winter was coming and the feeling was grim.
~
Then on a Tuesday just after sunrise,
the town folk arose to a big surprise.
The mayor returned with the money filled tote,
with him a cat with a long black coat.
~
The town folk wondered what had he done.
Questions were asked but answers were none.
The mayor was unfazed by their nosy demands.
For those truly wizardly never show their hands.

~*~
SCK011721

Summer To Fall

In these changing times,
minds cannot stay still.
Violence spreads like wildfire,
testing our strength and will.
~
Thought’s our only guide,
misguided we are lost.
Shooting from the hip,
destruction is the cost.
~
Love is shared by all,
hearts beat their choice.
Hate is the divider,
drowning out our voice.
~
High upon a tightrope,
this world can feel small.
Balance is required,
the option is we fall.

~*~
SCK090120

Patchwork

~*~
SCK082920

I woke today in a fog.
But autumn’s now in view.
There’ll be more days of sky high temps,
though fortunately just a few.
~
My body’s burned with a patchwork tan,
the grass a patchwork of brown.
Smiles await bluer skies,
but for now I’ve still a frown.
~
Perhaps today I’ll write a poem,
better than those before.
I used to say that every day,
but now I’m not so sure.
~
Like the seasons, time does change,
creativity comes and goes.
Inspiration’s all around,
but negativity grows and grows.
~
I need a cool crisp morning,
with leaf of red and gold.
Though summers can be wonderful,
this one’s getting old.
~
Maybe it’s just a fantasy,
thinking words will find their way.
Maybe the fantasy’s over,
of being joyous every day.
~
Peering up from my lap,
I see the fog starting to clear.
Though my paper is still blank,
I know a story’s near.
~
My eyes now wide open,
my pencil’s sharp and new.
Optimistically I scribble a word,
the clouds now but few.
~
One word turns to another,
a third leads to a line.
Verses soon will follow,
and again the day is mine.
~
I’m glad this patchwork is over.
And I’m sure that you are too.
I’m thankful for your time today,
my inspiration being you.

Rainbows and Unicorns

Today I know not what to do.
So I think I’ll try something new.
I’ll color a poem with skies so bright,
with stars that twinkle every night.
~
There’ll be no wars or no hate.
Conflicts solved with just debate.
There’ll be no clocks to dictate time.
There’ll be no violence or any crime.
~
There’ll be no pollution or climate change.
All will be loved, there’ll be no strange.
Peace will be our common goal.
Joy we’ll share from our soul.
~
There’ll be no hunger or disease.
Children will play as they please.
Crayons will be free for everyone.
So let’s get a box and start the fun.

~*~
SCK022721

Trippin

Plans have been made
and the weekend’s here.
An adventure will be had
but apart from my dear.
~
I’ll think of her while driving
and call at every chance.
I’ll dream of her when sleeping,
cuddled in romance.
~
I’ll spend my time distracted,
longing to return.
I’ll share my day with loved ones
but not the one I yearn.
~
Whilst my head will follow
wherever I may roam,
my heart will always be
at our happy home.

~*~
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Much Ado About Nothing

On a street that shouldn’t be there,
there’s a house that shouldn’t stand.
Its front is covered in thorny vines,
out back a yard of sand.
~
The windows are always open,
cats all come and go.
There’s a dog that barks all night,
it’s really a horror show.
~
There’s an old car in the driveway,
but no one has seen it move.
A radio’s always blasting upstairs,
so someone’s got the groove.
~
The locals all say it’s haunted,
they’ve heard stories all their life.
Newlyweds had once lived there,
but no one had ever seen the wife.
~
Packages and mail get delivered,
but the trash never goes out.
Imagination fills in the blanks,
cos that’s what fantasy’s about.

~*~
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