Hill Farm House Poem by Claire Galpin

Theirs something about this house,
That gives out a spooky affect,
During the day, while kids are at play,
They give little thoughts away.
“I was scared last night in my bed,
It was dark, ” a small child had said.

I have a room right up in the attic,
Its quite large and I don’t really like it.
I’ve a long table by my bed,
A wardrobe and a large dresses,
Theirs an armchair by a small window,
Which looks out on a holly tree of birds.

When the velvet curtains are closed,
And I’ve took off all my clothes,
I jump into bed with a fright,
Thinking I might see a ghost,
Maybe a spider, who knows?
In fright, I might even glance a vampire.

I have a big spider under my cup,
It moves if I lift the cup up,
It’s been there for at least three days now,
It lives under a glass, but I don’t know how.
Its pals come and see it now and again,
But from me, they never escape.

This house feels all creepy and scary,
I keep looking around myself staring,
If I hear a noise, it’s really nothing at all,
If I stand still I can hear my bones creak,
The wood on the ceiling is cracking,
But half of it is full of woodworm.

While the cows are mooing all night,
And the cats meowing till its let out’.
The pipe sometimes gives out quite a clang,
And my heater gives out a click,
If I move around quick, my bed gives a squeak,
And I can feel my nerves getting weak.