The Old House

At the dormer window there stood a ghost,
     Reading a book before a candle light;
Pushing aside the curtains she loved most,
     Her face clearly appeared in the dark night.

Pacing from room to room was she then seen,
     Inside the gloomy Pre-Civil War house;
An awful shadow fell upon me keen,
     I kept me quiet as a grey field mouse.

Years ago this house was a prison hold,
     For those Confed'rate soldiers captured bare;
Here were they locked inside the basement old,
     And later years were relics found in there.

I still recall to memory this sight,
     This White phantom creeping 'round upstairs late;
And sounds were heard, this figure beaming bright,
     Gave all my friends and I a dreaded fright.

We did enter in thro' the basement dark,
     A maze of rooms, so many dusty things;
Morbidly captivated we embark,
     To search this haunted house and all it flings.

Yet did my mind play havoc upon me,
     Worms did I see inside the living room;
Cobwebs were dangling ev'rywhere I see,
     If I kept ent'ring it would be my doom.

Strange eerie faces pushed inside the wall,
     A dagger fell and stuck nearby my feet;
I could hardly move thro' the narrow hall,
     Voices were heard my heart increased its beat.

If my nightmares were just only dead dreams,
     Then my imagination got the best;
I could have sworn those things were real it seems,
     I walk away and leave it now to rest.

~Timothy~

Based on an old true house and many happenings, but of course tweaked. The house was built by Hezekiah Jordan in 1818, 43 years prior to the Civil War. It was used as a Hospital on the first and second levels, while the basement was used as a Prison.

© Timothy 10 October, 2012