Poems about home - (poems From Haunted Houses) The House That Once Was A Home

(poems From Haunted Houses) The House That Once Was A Home - Poem by Janice Windle


Thare's a moment when,
hand on dark oak banister,
you look up.
A trick of light, a trembling
in the fabric of the time
that fills this house.


Sometimes when you pause,
key poised, in the dark oak hall,
time shifts. A stillness, then
you throw open the door
on your familiar space.
The room is empty, of course.
The electric ring, the single bed,
wait innocently.
The muffled laughter, the sobs,
were not heard from here.

A restless presence slips past
from the empty room
into the empty hallway,
leaves it


I heard that Jane had bought
my childhood home. I was in Brunei.
I ought not to have been amazed when I heard
that a sudden blaze occurred,
in my old attic bedroom.

Perhaps my ghost came home that night.
I wasn't sorry - said it served her right.
(Jane and I
never did see eye to eye.)



The bathroom door is stuck again.
Not locked - there is no lock.
just my mother's ghost, smoking
damp cigarettes, making the most
of a few hours' peaceful soaking
with a cooling coffee and a magazine.