May 4, 2018

Somewhere in the haunted house small boy sings

In piping treble against the dark and fear,

Flickering candle brushed by dusty wings

But not extinguished, his song is faint but clear.

As I move through passage, down creaking stair,

I hear his crystal courage, his open heart...

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© 2018 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

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