MARCH HALL A coach pulled up and out fell some bones They were looking for more permanent homes The coffin had burned, silver bullets had been fired And now the bones were just stressed out and tired March Hall would have greeted them in more hospitable times But today a ghost buster bossed with a loud parrot and rhymes The bones danced for her before even seeing what had occurred Then the lady choked to death on three ribs and a bird Now March Hall is well haunted again With all the loveliest perilous things The wallpaper has bad words (written in mildew stains) The tired bones havent gone far (they make a queue on the stairs) The cobwebs wave down oddly (in lofty arrogant airs) Peter Joseph Swanson
Posted on: Sun, 23 Nov 2014 07:42:14 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015