Haunted House

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 and throat,

And follow it, a thread until I find him there,

Sitting by the firelight, his hands held out.

He turns and smiles, his welcome clear to see,

With trust and love evident in his eyes,

And in this mirror I catch sight of me,

And feel within a courage start to rise.

We sit together and though the night is long

We lift our hearts and voices in our song.

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© 2021 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

All illustrations by Jacky Fleming including the line drawing of The Gansey Girl which is based on a sculpture by Steve Carvill that sits near the harbour in Bridlington