It Swung As The Pendulum Swings. Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
It Swung As The Pendulum Swings.
It swung as the Pendulum swings.
In the dilapidated House for Centuries no Pendulum had swung.
Yet past mid-night the Cobwebs danced and swung
And there was a Voice like a Voice on the Lou-haler
And as the Vice spoke more creepy it grew
One, two, three, four, five o'clock
And then the Voice ceased for Dawn had smiled.
Tuesday, February 20, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: house
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8/29/2026 2:52:06 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
