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Anna Rogers. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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Lay down in bed in uncle Tom's house
Parents in Italy,scared and cold,
"I like uncle Tom,not the house,
anything but the house"
but sent me there anyway,no one else cared,
Had my supper,then straight to bed,
that cold,frightning bed,in a cold,frightning house,
Not a mouse squeeking,not a person breathing,
Just the ticking of the old,grandfather clock.
"tick,tick,tick" it repeats itself in my ears,
like a throbbing pound,like a peircing sound
then at every hour,the bell rings.
Just after midnight i dreamed of a ghost,
telling me to stop listening to the clock,
but I was to intrigued,and so i listened,
and everything was silent.
Suddenly....I heard a bang down in the parlour,
I followed my instincts and descended down stairs,
there i met the old,grandfather clock.
"bang" it struck 13 0'clock .
The ghost appeared with Uncle Tom and said"RUN!"
I met my feet runing with Uncle Tom into the front garden,
and onto the road. In a blink of an eye, a flash of light.
I was struck down by a car.Once again I woke up with a bang
and I was back in the cold,frightning bed.
In the morning I told uncle Tom the story,
he said"It was just a nightmare"
Then,I could have sworn I saw 3 ghosts staring
in the kitchen window,looking ever so depressed and cross
But it was a dream,wasn't it?