Jonson's Ghost
The inn had gone to waste: I’d sold it off in haste.
Awaking in the gloom, as orbs lit up the room,
I recognised the ghost of Jonson, the old host.
I said, ‘I thought you’d come’ - and poured myself a rum.
He shouted, ‘Hey, you louse, how dare you sell MY house!’
Internal rhyme/slant rhyme
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2011
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