something old, something new.

They say it is occupied, the House that’s empty.
Occupied by something they are afraid to talk about.
A presence that they can only hint at,
before fear pales their faces and hushes them.
They leave, huddling their heads against the cold winds.
Winds that seem to originate from the Empty House,
as it stands tall and grey, against the winter sky.

Our little group looks up at the towering beauty,
the House that is the result of sheer hard work.
We came here to study it for its famed architecture,
But now it seems, the local hauntings will take up all our attention.

There is a tower, a little away from the main building,
ashen in colour, built of huge stones piled on top of one another.
Years of being un-inhabited have made their impact on the edifice.
Erosion and chaos runs rampant as weeds thrive amongst the broken walls;
remains of a majestic time, ghosts of splendour long dead.

The inhabitants are dead, the ghosts have moved on.
The stories remain.

There was once a little boy, who found himself a little pup.
Together they played in the grounds of The House.
They rolled around in the glorious greens, sunlight bouncing off them.
They seeked and hid, leaving footprints in the snow.
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter.
They brought in seasons together.
But, too many seasons passed by.
The boy was no longer little; the pup had become old.
The greens were still glorious, the snow just as cold.
But the boy was off to a boarding school and the pup to a new world.
The boy grew up, strong and wise.
The pup was no longer young, and he wilted away to nothing.
The greens were still glorious, the snow just as cold.
The boy now had a boy of his own, but the pup was just a gravestone.

Sometimes though, when he missed his own boy,
the boy would hear a bark in the wind and a joy in the snow.


There was a couple, childless but happy.
They worked as gardeners for The Big House.
They had each other, but their love was more.
They poured it all into the little plants they grew.
The garden flourished, the House grew proud.
Thus a child the happy couple found.
They nurtured it, till their garden grew to encompass The House.
Alas, their life’s Summer had been too long.
And so, Winter came fast and cruel, beating them down.
The owners left, they had no money.
The couple became childless once more.

Sometimes though, when they gazed at it from their cottage,
They saw a glimpse of their child peeking out from under the snow.


There was a girl, joyous and intelligent.
She laughed as if a beautiful secret was just hers to know.
She loved The House. And being smart, she transformed it in little time.
But, she fell victim to one of life’s idiosyncrasies.
And gave her heart to a foolish man.
He was rich and decided to turn it into a Hotel.
And the girl watched as her house,
that she’d spent years giving a new life to,
fell apart while the man walked away.
He took the money, the business, the clients.
And she was left broken, alone in a broken house.
She tried but she couldn’t keep up; her spark was gone.
And one day, so was she.
Where, no one ever found out.

Sometimes though, if you looked at the right moment,
you’d hear a laugh, and the House would be smiling at you.


These stories are told to me,
My friends hear others.

Life has always been about being practical for me.
Perhaps, I grew up too soon.
I hate stories, and I don’t believe in ghosts.

But, this day, sitting in the shade of a bent tree,
As I take in the chatter of my group mates,
and listen to their stories, I shrink.

I become a child for the first time in my life.
I take it all in: the stories, the chatter, the view, the place.
this House with its strange and beautiful history.

And I realize I’m falling in love.
With the history, the beauty, the wonder.
This hope, this nostalgia, this sense of adventure;
these feelings that I’m experiencing for the first time,
they all look me in the eye till I can stare no more.
I embrace them, I shut my eyes and embrace this wonder.

And within me, I feel them come alive.
The boy and his pup.
The couple.
The garden.
The girl.
The House.
The seasons. The wind.
The sunlight; the snow.
And laughter.

The House smiles at me.


7 thoughts on “something old, something new.

  1. You can definitely see your enthusiasm in
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