Sam Poem by Dawn Jardine

People sitting standing 'round,
some trouble be done it's bound.
A whisper comes and echo's through,
one person quietly squeeks his shoe.
Slowly chatter starts to grow,
then from the back an enormous, 'Whoa! '
Turns out Sam tried to disappear,
he's not gone, but only half is here.
A foot, an arm, a shirt, two socks,
and then amazingly someone talks!
We listen well and it is proved,
it's Sammy speaking and no one moves.
With his voice so loud so close,
he now haunts that ancient house.
He carries his story along with him,
and shares with those who will listen.
So as long as his voice is unfading,
his story will keep on remaining.