Quill's 31 Days of Halloween

Day 12

Creaking FloorBoards


Laying at night,
So snug in my bed,
I listen, my stomach freezing in dread,
At the noise, something that isn’t quite right.

I sit as I ponder,
My ghastly undoing,
At the hands of a ghost,
Who surely must be “boo” –ing

For the sound that gives me nightmares,
Surely could not be my innocent floor,
All the creaking and, the moaning galore,
Could not be the wood that sits at my door!

Perhaps it is vengeful,
And wishes to stay,
Instead of replacing,
That’s due the next day.


I tell it I’d keep it,
I would if I could,
But he is simply too broken,
And that does me no good.

So tonight he may moan,
To convince me to stay,
But tomorrow my creaky, groaning old floor,
Will be gone and I won’t have
To hear him no more.