The Visitation

[Pendragon]

THE VISITATION

In evening when the shadows fall
and darkness begins to fill the hall
I hear the beat of tiny feet
between the window and the wall.

The steps are light, so very mild,
and yet so boisterous and wild;
I somehow know as they march to and fro,
that this is the ghost of some small child.

I’ve tried my best to see it there
in the gloom beneath the stairs.
I think I see…Yes! Could it be?
It is as intangible as the air.

I hear a peal of childish laughter,
(I wish I could only glimpse it! But I may never.)
It sounds so glad! Why am I sad
at this visitation from the hereafter?

Tonight the room is spinning like a top,
and the ache within my chest just won’t stop.
The child I always hear suddenly appears
and says, “Time to come to me, Pop…”

Dale Harris (Pen)
© 8/16/97

[firefangled]

THE VISITATION

In evening when the shadows fall
and darkness begins to fill the hall
I hear the beat of tiny feet
between the window and the wall.

The steps are light, so very mild,
and yet so boisterous and wild;
I somehow know as they march to and fro,
that this is the ghost of some small child.

I’ve tried my best to see it there
in the gloom beneath the stairs.
I think I see…Yes! Could it be?
It is as intangible as the air.

I hear a peal of childish laughter,
(I wish I could only glimpse it! But I may never.)
It sounds so glad! Why am I sad
at this visitation from the hereafter?

Tonight the room is spinning like a top,
and the ache within my chest just won’t stop.
The child I always hear suddenly appears
and says, “Time to come to me, Pop…”

Dale Harris (Pen)
© 8/16/97


This is wonderful, Pen. There is something very endearing about a tender ghost story.

[Anza]

woah.

[AuntShecky]

This is quite rhythmical; the interplay of the consonants and vowels are pleasant to the ear.