THE WEIRDEST GHOST CAME TO TEA

THE WEIRDEST GHOST CAME TO TEA

At half past three one morning,
A knocking shook my door,
I found a ghost in slippers,
Just floating off the floor.

He wore a flowery bonnet,
One sock and one green shoe,
His trousers were transparent,
So everything shone through.

He bowed and said, “Good evening,
I hope I’m not too late,
I’ve haunted fourteen houses,
And none had biscuits on a plate.”

I quickly filled the kettle,
He chose my finest chair,
But every time he sat himself,
He floated through the air.

My little dog came sniffing,
Then walked straight through his knee,
The ghost cried, “That was ticklish,
Now kindly make the tea.”

He asked for seven sugars,
I stared at him in shock,
He said, “I’m dead already,
They cannot make me rot.”

I gave him one round biscuit,
It travelled through his chest,
My dog caught it beneath him,
And thought himself quite blessed.

The ghost then sadly whispered,
“I’ve lost my haunting sheet,
And someone gave my grave away,
To Harold from next street.”

The clock struck four behind him,
He screamed and lost his shoe,
Then floated up the chimney,
Before he drank his brew.

Now every Thursday morning,
I set his cup at three,
For he’s the weirdest ghost alive—
Who keeps coming back for tea.