Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.189.195.142
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Moving Into a Haunted House

By Elton Camp

It was a story the Realtor had heard before
We were looking for an old house to restore
“It has to have a basement and two floors
If it was a Victorian, we’d like that even more.”

“On a large plot of land the house has to be.
We don’t want to look out and neighbors see.
It can’t be some old relic that is falling down
But we’ll do work on the house and ground.”

The agent then tried to hide a delighted grin
“Long on the market this one place has been.
Your description made think of it right away.
Get in my car and we’ll drive out there today.”

The fine old mansion wasn’t near to any towns
The driveway twisted through neglected grounds
Through a break in the trees, we caught a sight
The place brought a mixture of fright and delight

When we found that all furnishing were included,
We made an offer and the deal was soon concluded
At closing, the Realtor one thing more did reveal
“I learned it’s haunted so you can cancel the deal.”

“Hey, I am not some ignorant, superstitious fool.
One who believes in zombie, ghost, witch or ghoul.
If any spirits are in our house as you have predicted, 
They better be packing as they’re about to be evicted.”

The very first night after we moved in from the town,
We were about to go to bed, but heard a horrible sound
It was something like from a movie or a scary dream
It was frightful, as if some tortured soul did scream

The source of the disturbance was on the first floor
We crept down the stairs and heard it more and more
I wondered if we would still be alive the next morning
I reproached myself for failing to take agent’s warning

Finally to find the dark, noisy room took us several tries
I shone into it the light and saw a pair of glowing eyes
The cries came to a stop and trembling I stood still
And down my back there ran a fright-induced chill

The flashlight tumbled to the floor from my hand
I couldn’t decide if it was better that I run or stand
What happened next was, to me, almost too much
A soft form, my lower legs began to lightly touch

I felt that I could not withstand the fright any more,
But my very feet felt as they were glued to the floor
My wife switched on her flashlight and yelled “Scat.”
Down the hallway scooted a lost and frightened cat
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required