 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:14:56 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 80866
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Ghosts of Courthill
[time] => 2005-01-21 14:55:15
[hometext] => This is not fictional and has been well recorded for many years.
[bodytext] => The farmhouse was nearly three hundred years old And little of its history had we been told. It stood in the valley at the foot of the hill And the courthouse, now converted, is attached to it still. At the top of the hill stood the hanging tree, No longer there for people to see. It had a cellar and attics and plenty of space, A grand old house, in a beautiful place. But when that house was quiet and still Strange sounds you’d hear at this place called Courthill. Footsteps you’d hear cross the bedroom floors And the click of the catch heard on one of the doors. Shadowy figures pass on the stairs and the hall, But no one was there, no one at all. The sound of the attic doors as they open and close But why it happened nobody knows. The back door would be heard to open at night, But when someone looked it was still locked tight. Wet footsteps to be seen along the hall floor But no one had entered through the locked front door. A figure often seen sitting on the end of the bed Not a sound was made nothing was said. She’d gaze at the children, as they’d soundly sleep As though some protection she had to keep. The children, of this figure, were never afraid All fears of her seemed to be allayed. Who she was we do not know, But many have seen her, as past records show. For twenty-two years with these happenings we dwelt, But never any fear had the family felt. One day my young grand children said to me Granny there’s something you must see. To the side of the house they led the way, To the cellar window they pointed that day. Roman soldiers they said the window did slap And with their swords the glass they did tap. Disbelief soon got the better of me And I did some research into history. That was when I found that this part of the abode Was built on the site of an ancient Roman road. Written records by other generations have shown, Those who have lived in this house, these happenings have known. When friends came to stay we’d not say a word But in the morning they would say what they’d seen and heard. Of a knock on their door they had been aware, But when they opened it there was nothing there. Some may think that these happenings were mad, But a glimpse of past history is what we had. Now I live in a house that is quiet and still But I miss my guests, the ghosts of Courthill. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 21 [informant] => romayne [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com