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The children that played
On the stairwell that night
Were giggling and laughing
At their little friend’s fright
For while they were jumping
And playing on beds
She walked down the stairwell
Alone; then she fled.

She knew that she heard it.
The sound was quite clear.
Only she on the stairs
Along with her fears –
No one believed her.
They laughed; and she sighed.
Then, ran to their mother.
And told her wide-eyed.

The mother said softly.
There’s no need to fear.
The ghosts in this house
Are not real, little dear.
When at last she was calm
And went back up to play.
The children were ready
There were pranks on that day.

Upstairs in their bedroom
The lamplight was on
The window was open.
The breezes wafted by.
A Barbie doll taped
In the lamp by her hips –
The other girls giggled
Each one smirked tight-lipped.

When back with the others
They were jumping on beds.
Soon huddled together,
They pointed with dread.
The curtains were moving.
Subtle puffs of the wind. 
Shadows on sheers swaying,
“We saw a ghost, there!”

She swore as she screamed,
I’ll never come back!”
“This place is haunted 
And that is a fact.
No adult reassuring 
Could undo her fright.
She stayed awake and watched
To the other girls’ delight –

When the party was over, 
The children went home.
The others still laughing 
About the joke of the night –
It was three years later
In the darkness of night,
I walked down the steps
And had the same fright!

Shhhhh!  
Happy Halloween.

Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
October 24, 2014

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest Ghost Stories 
Sponsor	Kelly Deschler

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