Picture this… an old farm house,
Set back there…in the foot hills;
That’s when I was only eight years old,
And, to recall it…still gives me chills!

It began one, cold Winter night,
When my sister and I went to bed;
There was no central heating,
So, the blankets went up…over our heads!

We were awoken short hours later,
By the sound of chains being dragged;
Drag…drag… drag – then, a short pause,
Right past our beds…it seemed!

Our eyes grew larger and larger,
It felt like they would pop out of our heads;
Sister was younger than I,
Screaming…she jumped into my bed!

It seemed that the procession moved on,
Heading…right for the attic door;
But, we knew the door was locked,
For we had tried to open it…before!

There was no sleep to be had that night,
We lay there…silently and trembling;
But, at daybreak…up we shot,
Then, down the stairs…we went scrambling!

What a tale we had to tell,
To our Mom and to our Dad;
Did they believe our story?
I’m not so sure…that they had.

But, as soon as we had eaten,
Upstairs…licketty-split;
They had the key…unlocked the door,
And, we were there…inside the attic!

With eyes as large as saucers,
Sister and I…looked all around;
Boxes were piled high and old trunks,
A spinning wheel and old clothes were found.

Was there a GHOST IN THE ATTIC?
No, not a single one…in sight;
But, what was it that gave us such a scare,
On that cold, Winter night?

Now, Mom & Dad didn’t believe us,
They thought we made it all up;
But, sister and I were certain,
For, we had heard the chains…close-up!

Just as we were leaving,
The attic door…was nearly closed;
I saw a ragged old curtain move,
And, my goodness…what it exposed!

To this day…I am certain,
That I saw a bony leg uncovered;
A skeleton for sure…all bone,
And, I ran out…like a coward!

A child’s imagination?
I think not…for until this day;
I believe there was a GHOST IN THE ATTIC,
And, nobody can make me think…any other way!

********

June 10, 2004

Aimee Love
(LHG)