Haunted
At the dark end of a wayward street
Atop a bare and lonely crest
Sits the old man’s mansion replete
Bespoke in tendrilled ivy vest
Lone barren tree, a stick-figured soul
Stripped of its life by the bitter cold
Stands gnarled guardian on patrol
For the spirits the house does hold
Wrought iron fence and sunken posts
There to serve as your only guide
To an open creaking gate that boasts
‘Welcome to the Other Side’
Across this threshold have come the few
Thinking abode holds nothing they fear
A brave and intrepid lot is true
Unprepared for what lives here
For here the haunted memories hang
Like the crooked shutters on its face
A spectral and malfeasant gang
A demonic and dusty race
In here where there is no light of day
Feasted upon by shadowed hosts
I am the unwitting cast away
In my mansion filled with ghosts
commonsensiblyspeaking 
I got totally sucked into your words and the ending came as a shocker to me! Once again, you eloquently draw a visual picture with each line. Exquisitely written!
You are the most honest measure of success I have, so thank you for your kind words! I hope others will find it just as entertaining. ❤
I love poems telling a story. This one is the best read for bitter cold nights near a campfire. Brilliantly written Brad 😊 👌
Thank you, Vinayak! I always appreciate your taking the time to read and comment. Your words are a blessing to me.
Anytime Brad, it’s a pleasure to read your work 😊
I hope this is fiction 🙂 And bespoke and tendrilled (which I had to look up) in the same line- impressive!
Pure fiction, Jim! That was my favorite line to write. I am glad it made you put your thinking cap on.
glad to hear it was fiction, and thanks for making me think!
Fantastic 💖
Thanks! You are my Shero!
Thank you, gorgeous 😘