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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Wild rumours spread that Justice Jones had died. Drawn curtains fuelled speculation’s fire And with the passing days it would transpire That his black Labrador roamed round outside. Where once a sweet perfume had filled the air And nature’s finest flora proudly bloomed, The garden in its present state was doomed To poison ivy’s curse through lack of care. The erstwhile mansion too revealed neglect Its crumbling walls were rickety and worn, And passers-by would often pour out scorn To see its former glory sorely wrecked. The widower had been a wealthy man And whispers of a hoard of cash had grown, But its precise location was unknown; To seize the secret stache became the plan. And thus it was that in the dead of night As shadows danced and owls screeched overhead, Three grasping men set off with steadfast tread The prospect of a rich reward in sight. They prised the rusting hinges back and fore Then forced the handle wrapped in spider’s weave, A putrid, musty smell they did perceive And shifty eyes then hastened to explore. Their steps resounded on the wooden floor Then suddenly there hung a cloud of fear As high up on the stairway did appear A terrifying, snarling, Labrador. A sudden gust of wind slammed fast the door And avarice gave way to fervent plea But no compassion would there ever be For those who chose his master to abhor. Meanwhile, outside the door a shape lay still A sprawling, jet black mass with stiffened limbs Whilst in the house all hope of succour dims As blood spills in the mansion on the hill. 27/08/18 Sponsored by Dear Heart a.k.a Broken Wings. ‘Haunted House’ contest 15/12/18 Give Me Goosebumps Poetry Contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter A Ghost Story Poetry Contest Sponsor : Angela Tune
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