I live inside a
haunted house, I wouldnít call it fun,
ghouls and spooks are everywhere,
they slam the
doors and break the plates and frighten everyone,
it seems that
once youíre dead your jobís to scare!
Itís hard to get
to sleep because they stomp around all night
vases, breaking window panes,
and if it all
goes quiet and you think that itís all right,
they form a line
of ghosts and rattle chains!
The lights turn
on and off, and toast will pop at any time,
the phone will
ring then fall onto the floor,
the kitchen sink
is always full of glowing greenish slime,
nobody does the
dishes any more!
The pictures in
the hallway hang at angles rather strange,
straightened every single day,
each night a
phantom does its job - to mess and re-arrange,
he doesnít call
it work - to him itís play!
The bedrooms are
an awful mess, the pillow cases sliced,
falling round like snowy flakes,
nobody makes the
bed because the household poltergeist
will muck it up
again, when he awakes!
If visitors come
round to call, the ghosts will come alive,
they shriek and
boo, itís very impolite,
before too long
the guests are running screaming down the drive,
and often, all
their hair has turned to white!
I give you all a
warning, stay away from ghostly stuff,
and never, ever
buy a haunted house,
Iím moving out
quite soon, because Iíve really had enough,
itís bad enough
for me - and Iím a mouse!
more of my
KIDS POEMS here