The Haunted House
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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