The Haunted Manor
My car was stalled, it was late;
the storm it seemed, would not abate.
On the hill, an abandoned manor,
beckoned me in Victorian manner.
No one answered when I knocked,
but, I found the door unlocked.
Inside, no sound but a ticking clock;
it sported a spider-web frock.
It became clear, no one lived there;
if I stayed the night, no matter.
I’d call for help in the morning;
what was that sound, someone moaning?
The place was empty, I had checked;
but now I jumped swiftly erect.
Footsteps heard upon the stairs;
a real Medusa was standing there!
Out I fled, straight to my car;
thank heaven that it wasn’t far.
Imagine my relief when,
it started after I got in.
For: One Night In A Haunted Manor Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
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