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Night Visitor
Between the ticking of the clock
I thought I heard a haunting knock.
I pondered what I thought I heard,
“Perhaps the tapping of a bird?”
The hearth was warm and so was I,
Until a cold draft struck my thigh.
The shadows seemed to dance about,
And then the candlelight blew out.
A ghost came from eternity,
And scared the Dickens out of me.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said.
He handed me his severed head.
“Well pardon me there, Mr. Ghost,
I’m not an apparition host.”
I placed his head upon a chair,
And said that he could get it there.
The head began to turn and twist.
A boney finger slapped my wrist.
I asked, “What did you come here for?”
He turned and walked right through the door.
The head began to fade away.
“I’m sorry that you both can’t stay.
I hope you won’t think I am mean,
But don’t come back till Halloween.”
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The Ghost That Came to Tea
One evening after drinking tea,
A ghost came in to talk to me.
I quickly glanced up from my book,
And must have had a frightened look.
“Don’t worry, Sir. As you will see,
I just came by to have some tea.
Don’t bother, Sir; do not get up
I’m going to pour myself a cup.”
I watched the apparition pour
A cup of tea upon my floor.
“Am I awake or am I dead?
Perhaps I’m just a sleepy head.
Figment of imagination,
Who gave to you an invitation?
Why did you come to visit me
While reading books and drinking tea?”
As I attest and I will vouch,
The ghost sat down upon the couch.
He looked at me and with a wink
He asked, “Do you have stronger drink?”
“Dear ghost I’m only drinking tea
To which I only add honey.
I have no booze to offer you.
What is it that you came to do?”
The ghost told me “I came to chat.
I wonder where your head was at?”
I felt my head; it was attached.
I looked at him; his clothes were patched.
He said “I mean to check your brain.
I think you have been under strain.”
I said “If you will go away,
I think my brain will be okay.”
The ghost was lonesome just like me—
We shared conviviality.
He disappeared through my closed door,
But left the tea stain on my floor.
.
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LTC Roy E. Peterson, US Army Military Intelligence and Russian Foreign Area Officer (Retired) has published more than 5,000 poems in 78 of his 101 books. He has been an Army Attaché in Moscow, Commander of INF Portal Monitoring in Votkinsk, first US Foreign Commercial Officer in Vladivostok, Russia and Regional Manager in the Russian Far East for IBM. He holds a BA, Hardin-Simmons University (Political Science); MA, University of Arizona (Political Science); MA, University of Southern California (Int. Relations) and MBA University of Phoenix. He taught at the University of Arizona, Western New Mexico University, University of Maryland, Travel University and the University of Phoenix.
Roy, both of these ghost poems are hauntingly fun and inventive. I love the literary allusions in “Night Visitor” (strong echoes of Poe and Dickens) and I especially love the scary but sweet story of “The Ghost That Came to Tea.” Be glad it was just a tea stain. In The Canterville Ghost it’s unremovable blood. Thank you for a shiver and a smile. Happy Halloween!
Wonderful comments and observations! I still wonder about the stain on my rug!
Nice ghost poem ! I’ve had them come to express opinions,
Mercy, me! Expressing opinions?!
Delightful!
Thank you!
Just gotta say… anyone who doesn’t know that ghosts and goblins stalk this fallen earth just may have fallen for the false enlightenment that science is impregnable and those poor souls are in for quite an insight when the horsemen ride deciding Who the sovereign is…
And Roy… IF that spook left tea stains on your floor… I’m sure that it MUST be a British, OR at least a revolutionary tea party tax demonstrator, or perhaps an ex-pat Englishman or woman looking for a break from what must be the dreary, post-life, drab existence of a ghost.
That may be a good call, Mike! LOL!
I had fun reading these poems Roy. Thank you and Happy Halloween.
Thank you, Norma, and Happy Halloween to you, as well!
As noted above, echoes of Dickens, plus some hilarious updated allusions such as “Well pardon me there, Mr. Ghost, I’m not an apparition host.”
Both pieces rattle along like a xylophone of bones.
Thanks for two fun and thoughtful pieces.
I love you reference to ” a xylophone of bones.”
Huge fun, Roy! I’d much rather deal with a tea stain than a blood stain… a few scone crumbs and a smear of jam and clotted cream would make me feel quite at home on Halloween.
Susan, written like someone who understands tea stains, scone crumbs, jam smears and clotted cream! I trust your Halloween was free of those this year.
Entertaining stuff. We need a little lightheartedness nowadays!
Thank you, David, and I agree.
Roy, these were fun to read, and well done. I like the literary references in “Night Visitor.”
Fun to read, Roy. I like your matter-of-fact approach to ghosts that keeps moving without missing a beat, no matter what the ghost says or does.