Ghosts - The Widow Jones Poem by Paul Warren

I was new to the old Port Adelaide town area
It's the 1960s and I immigrated from Caledonia
My Scottish parents were of hardy stock
Wanting more for me and my brother to stop
Us becoming like others in trouble with the law in Glasgow town
So we left Scotland as 10 pound poms down under bound

I met Bluey Holden on my first day at school
At the Port Adelaide Primary learning the new rule
He picked me out from the crowd in the morning
With the other kids from the Pennington hostel lodging
We became friends as boys will always do
And he invited me home for the weekend too

So Saturday morning came around and I went to the front door
It was a return verandah house that wanted a paint and more
I knocked and waited for an answer to occur to my knock then
When I heard the creaking of a chair at the verandah's end
He saw an old lady rocking on the chair looking into space
I nodded in her direction but she continued at her own pace

Bluey answered the door and I thought nothing more of it
As the weeks and months went on and I began to feel I would fit
And on Saturday mornings I would see her on the verandah
She would say nothing but continue to rock in the chair there
Until one day I asked Bluey about the lady in the rocking chair
He looked shocked and he told me there was no lady there

But he did say that when they had moved into this house hold
The last owner was Widow Jones who died as she was very old.

© Paul Warren Poetry