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The air was damp inside the house, chill creeping through the walls
 Swags and Tails with dusty eyes seep through the faded falls.
  The garish group sat silently hands splayed upon a table square
Whilst the caller whispers low and weak, “Is there anybody there?”

They wait and listen in the dark then shake in startled shock
As softly as a black cat’s paw, they hear a muffled knock.
Just like a spider climbing up, their bodies crawl with fright
“Was that a knock?” asks Psychic Pat,“ ‘cus I’m sure it was alright!”

“But then again, I’M NOT so sure.” states Mr ‘Medium’ Albert Gore
“Ask again” hissed Mrs Graves. “Spirit if that were you, knock again, once more.”

The room seemed to grow darker.  Mr Gore gulped back his fear
“I’ll ask its name. Is that you Mrs Smith?  Speak to us. Your friends are all here.”
A voice rang out, just one word “NO!”  It was a man’s voice deep and clear.
They huddled close, Pat rolled her eyes, “That’s not Mrs Smith our old dear”

Albert Gore coughed and called, “What’s your name, the man who just said NO.”
Even louder the voice boomed out “My name is Joe”

The letter-box began to flap, they could hear a shifting of feet
“Don’t know about you” says Mrs Graves, “I’m ice-cold an’ feel white as a sheet”
“What do you want?” said Mr Gore,“ you’ll have to be quick we’ve all bin here since five.”
The Spirit voice shouted, “I know! I’m Joe, from next door, ‘an you’re all blocking my drive!

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