Cry of the Ghost

It was cold

and night was dark,

dogs were shivering

and too scared to bark.

Trees were silent

as if in deep sleep,

but we could all hear

 the little ghost weep.

Houses were gloomy

and streets were sad,

the moon was shining

but the light was bad.

Cry of the ghost

we could all hear,

down our spines

his cry sent a shiver.

 Doors were closed

someone was knocking,

everything was quiet 

but someone was walking.

Kids were warned

not to look and peep,

even through a key hole

the ghost could creep.

But one little kid

was a mischievous brat,

what was it about

he wanted to look at.

He was sure that

the ghost was in distress,

his trouble, the kid knew,

he wanted to redress.

 He opened a window

when papa was busy,

but mama saw him

and she was in a tizzy.

There was the ghost

 lying in the lane,

the kid could see

that he was in pain.

“Ghost, ghost

why are you crying,

and why on the ground

are you lying?”

”Don’t even ask me

I have stomach pain,

for I am foolish

I ate a croc’s brain.

 The croc was silly and

empty was his brain,

my stomach didn’t agree

now I have a pain.”

“Don’t you worry

I’ll surely help you,

if I have stomach pain

mama gives me a bitter brew.”

The kid gave him a brew

and asked him to drink,

the ghost took a sip and 

felt his heart would sink.

But the ghost was brave

he gulped the bitter brew,

in a flash he was smiling

and said, “Thank you.”

 The ghost patted the kid

he was cured of his pain,

the kid saw mama rushing

she was carrying a cane.

His mama was scared

she was muttering a prayer,

but she didn’t find the ghost

for he had vanished in air.

          © i b arora