When we took on this depleted place
We bought from a family of gypsies.
Something had brought a glow to our face
Not thinking of ghouls and ghosties.
The builders took their time to remedy,
Repair, replace, and fix the ceiling,
While we travelled down an hour each day
To take stock of the paint a-peeling.
But then one day we heard an enormous crash
The biggest ceiling fresh with smooth plaster
Fell on the fireplace scattering soot and ash,
Covered red faces black and white with anger.
No one smoked inside the house and hall
But often we caught a hint of cigar
We had thirteen doors replaced in all,
And a shadow disappeared up the stair.
When all the work was done and dusted
With every room decorated and curtained,
All pictures hung and furniture disported
A strange and chilling feeling was reported.
We felt the presence of the grandfather!
A strong man who did not want to leave,
Enjoyed his smoke, decided he would rather
Stay. His need to leave he did not believe!
Despite the cleansing with sacred sage
He would hide for a while in his secret dance,
Then reappear like some thespian on a stage
We’re now so used to his sudden performance!
When we depart we hope to lead by our example
But knowing him he will remain in his own castle.
So we must leave him to enjoy the new people
And trust they will accept his smoky, ghostly gamble!
© David Tenneson 2013.