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I pulled in late one night from off the pike,
          A manor rumored haunted, yet it seemed
               As clean and bright as any hotel deemed,
     So worthy of what guests as I would like.

A busy place, yet there was still a room,
          The "only vacancy" they had to spare,
               But walking to my room I came aware,
     That everything was quiet as a tomb.

So many people strolling to-and-fro,
          Thus seeming to communicate at will,
               And yet, despite it all, the air was still,
     And why that was, I doubt Ill ever know.

I got to bed, but didn't get much sleep,
          For when I shut my door the din began -
               As though an all-night party was at hand,
     An uproar that went on 'til morning's creep.

I nodded off just 'fore the sun arose,
          Awakened to the dawning with a start,
               A sight that I will always set apart,
     For instantly, the blood within me froze ...

It seems I'd spent the night inside my car,
          The manor, out my window, aged and vile,
               I stayed there in a trance for quite awhile,
     Recalling what I'd seen that night, bizarre.

It may have been a dream or mind canard,
          But I will swear 'til death that it was real,
               And nothing then or since can e'er reveal,
     Those charges placed upon ... my credit card.




Written and submitted on January 22, 2019
For the "Night In A Haunted Manor" Poetry Contest
Tania Kitchin, Judge & Sponsor.

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