A toast! To
My gentleman ghost, my friend,
Though in the daylight his daunting form I cannot see
The perfect host he is me.

At night he makes his way down the winding stairs,
As master of the house he has no need to put on airs.
He asks ,”if there’s anything I need or lack” and offers to take my coat and hat.
Though no form in the flesh to addressed I see,
A cold and imperceptible hand he extends to me.

Of each room in the house he gives me a guided tour, then bidding me good night,
He, slowly behind him closes my chamber door.
His dense footsteps fade against the rickety aged floor until deafened by the dead silence I can perceive them no more.

Late in the night I hear him roaming around,
Doing whatever ghost do and making moaning sounds.
But he’s considerably polite not to wake the town,
Ah, yes my gentleman ghost friend.

As all about me is settled and still,
Suddenly, with this melancholy and melodious sound the chilling air all around me fills.
For somewhere in the house in some adjoining room
A grand piano plays a daunting tune.

“TIS some clever guest who plays”, I hastily presumed.
So I rush down the stairway by a single candle lights flare,
Just to reach the distinct place only to find that no one is there.
Yet, as though possessed by some invisible entity the piano it plays,
By this display alone I am bewildered, spooked and amazed.

Suddenly, a hazy yet discrete specter I clear as day could see
Of what seemed some distinct gentleman sitting with his back facing me.
By the light of a candle I draw closer to get some better clue,

“Ah, my gentleman ghost friend (I sigh in relief) clearly it is only you”
Slowly, he turns to face me and asks “by chance, do you play”?
Therefore all that evening in the company of my gentleman ghost, as his guest I did stay.

To the first light of morning I awakened rested and yawning.
Still replaying in my head like a dream from the night before was that melody so hypnotically charming.
When besides me on the table I find a little note, in the hand of my gentleman ghost
And this is what he wrote, “I regret I cannot join you, I’m afraid I must decline,
Since I never appear in daylight and I rarely ever dine.
So, at this heavenly spread set before me I am left to dine alone,
I am left without another friendly face before me, or pleasing voice to set the tone.

Shut up in this old house, with each passing moment I spend.
He stands there in the shadows waiting, on my comforts eager to attend.
Like a fog gliding down that staircase, he with ease descends,
To demonstrate some token of friendly gesture his kindness to extend

His footsteps though, I cannot trace, but his presence I can feel.
I never see him throughout the day but at night he appears at will.
Among the living a kinder soul to me has never been,
None came as close to even surpass in charm or civility to that of my gentleman ghost, my friend.

In time this house has come to be my home though empty it may seem,
Yet this it makes up for the times spent alone with misplaced spirits that it brings.
And now these corridors haunt us together, my gentleman ghost and I,
As we both wait to play the perfect host to whomever come stopping by.