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Ruan Mills Burke

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The Ghost of Lady Maud
by Ruan Mills Burke

Sunday, October 07, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Ruan Mills Burke
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           >> View all 173

You just never know...

The moment they'd gone she could feel it 
Although there was nobody there, 
The presence of someone beside her, 
And a very slight chill in the air 

She made up her mind to look further 
To see what might perturb her most, 
She dared not discuss with the others 
The chances of having a ghost 

They'd probably think her neurotic 
And say it was all in her mind 
How could she ever convince them? 
That she knew it was now't of the kind 

She knew there was no one before them 
Who'd suffered a tale of woe, 
But there had to be some kind of story 
That told what she wanted to know 

A medium was sought for the answer 
It was now that the story converged, 
Three names, a Victorian piano 
And a family history emerged 

A great love of books and of music, 
Of honeysuckle outside the door, 
Hearing a child playing Green sleeves 
And a house with no ladder before! 

Well her house, she knew was converted 
From a bungalow ten years or more 
And her sister had learned the recorder, 
T'was Green sleeves she'd played to the core. 
She traced the three names she was given 
And compiled a family tree, 
But there was no Victorian piano 
She didn't know where that could be. 

Then what she discovered amazed her, 
The piano was there, unbeknown, 
At some stage made into a cupboard 
Which she'd bought and stood in her home. 

The ghost, Maud, had loved her piano 
So much that she'd followed it here 
To relive her great love of music 
On the piano that she'd held so dear 


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Reviewed by D. Vaineo 10/7/2012
Ruan, I too have a friendly ghost it started out when I first
moved in...various odors would come and go, like roses,perfume,
after shave,toast, steak. Sometimes it would follow you outside.
The odors left after a year or two. Now I can feel light touches
on my calve and arm.

Great story poem!

Reviewed by Donna Chandler 10/7/2012
A lovely story put to rhyme.

Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger 10/7/2012
Ruan ~
Sweet essence of honeysuckle. The ghost entranced
with the music she loved. The piano she cherished.
Love this poem Ruan.

Lady Mary Ann
Reviewed by Lily of Lough Neagh C. Dennis-Woosley 10/7/2012
Ahhh many are attached to what they love Ruan
I myself among the antiques and collectibles
I have house a few that make their presence
known... One particular soul her perfume is
quite strong :)

Great tale my dear Ruan

Love and Light
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 10/7/2012
Those who dispute the spirit world (I used to be one of them) or ghosts could be in for stunning surprises before the end of their days. Enjoyable read.
Reviewed by Budd Nelson 10/7/2012
we do seem to become attached to that which we love the most for the comfort it gives us, very well done Ruan
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