Ghost and her Ghostie

The Ghost and her Ghostie

 

 

This is what I heard one night:

The moon it was a round ball bright.

Odd shapes moved in shadow and light,

Chuckles ‘n chortles of blood-curdling delight.

‘Oh my dear little ghostie,

My burnt brown toastie,

Oh my lanky love – my thorn in a glove,

How I love to roast ye.’

It was Ghostie and his Mum.

‘Oh my daaarling scum

Shall we play the drum?

Ta ra rum, ra rum- RUM!’

Ghostie with loud hoots,

Cackles and toots,

Took up a shin bone

And drummed on a stone,

While Mum kept up a hum,

As in fear I stood numb,

Lest they see me! And … and

Asked me to join the band.

Begged for my skull,

And hit it with a dull

Whack, twack, twack

Then had me for a snack.

As she shook him by his ear

And threw him up a tree

In sheer jollity,

A moan was heard from near.

Father Ghost was home

From his visit to a tomb.

Then all three, who were family

Vanished  – most suddenly!

Nonsense Rhymes tr. From Sukumar Ray