The Haunted House

Image by Loren Zemlicka Photography

THE HAUNTED HOUSE

Oo! Do you remember, too,
The haunted house
The wind blew through? —
The house so bare,
The grass so tall,
Where folks don’t dare
To live at all,
The open door,
And when we’d peek,
The way the floor
Would always squeak,
The awful noise
The shutters made,
And how we boys
Were all afraid
Of every sound
We heard around
The haunted house?

Gee, oh, gee! Did jever see
The haunted house
At night, like me?
The night I had
To learn my song
Ma told my Dad
To go along.
“That haunted place
Is on the way,
And just in case –”
I heard her say.
Of course my Pa
Said, “That’s all bosh.”
He said, “Oh, pshaw!”
I said, “My gosh,
Do you think I
Would dare go by
The haunted house?”

“Oh, I know I’ll have to go;
This haunted house
Is funny, though.”
But I and Pa,
When we were right
In front, we saw,
Saw something white!
And then I dropped,
Or did almost.
Pa never stopped,
But yelled, “A ghost!”
When spirits roam,
Home’s where to be.
I beat it home,
But dad beat me.
My, Dad ran fast
That night we passed
The haunted house!

(Copyright, 1930, by Douglas Malloch)

Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Oct 27, 1930

Tags: 1930, Douglas Malloch, Halloween, Holidays, Poetry