Ghost of the House

I am the ghost of the house on the hill
Forgive me, for here I stand.
Alone, forgotten, run down and still
Surrounded by barren land.
‘Twas not, however, as it always was
For life and hope filled my walls.
And little children danced on my floors
While playing with trains and dolls.
My kitchen was full of homey smells.
My front porch held a swing.
The garden was full of fragrant flowers
where meadowlarks came to sing.
Hearts were young, and then grew old.
The angel of death came to call.
Then one sad day in the month of May
There was nobody here at all.
A tornado blew…and a storm came through.
I was desperate…in need of repair.
But because I was left alone and bereft…
There was no one at all to care.
So here I am…the ghost of a house…
A place where a home used to be.
If you hear a moan, a creek or a groan…
Remember, it’s only me………..

jennifer lynn grant