The Attic Room

My sister Susan had disappeared

At the age of twenty four,

She’d gone on up to the attic room

And she’d locked and barred the door,

We beat, cajoled, and entreated her,

But she never would come out,

I said, ‘We shouldn’t have argued Sue,

I didn’t need to shout.’

My father came with his gravel voice

And demanded ‘Open up!’

He thumped and kicked on the cedar door,

And beat with a metal cup,

But there wasn’t even a whimper

As of somebody inside,

It was like she’d suffered a broken heart

Had crawled in there, and died.

We left her there till the morning, 

Thought a night would calm her down,

‘She’ll come out once she is hungry,’

Said my brother, (he’s a clown).

But as the clock struck for dinner time

With not the slightest stir,

My father carried a battering ram

And ran right up the stair.

He stood and battered the cedar door,

He said it gave him pain,

‘I can’t afford to replace it, but,’

Then belted it again,

The door had splintered, the lock fell off

And he burst into the room,

But all that he saw were cobwebs, dust

And an air of deepest gloom.

‘Susan, where can you be,’ he cried,

‘There’s nowhere you can hide,

There isn’t even a window here

So you can’t have got outside,’

His voice rang out through the house and sent

An echo down the stair,

My mother burst into tears to hear

That Susan wasn’t there.

The police came over and climbed the roof,

Dropped into the attic space,

They hunted among the rafters there,

Looked almost every place,

There wasn’t a sign of Susan though

She’d simply disappeared,

‘The same thing happened to Grandma Coe,’

My mother cried, ‘It’s weird!’

‘She locked herself in the attic there

In the fall of forty-eight,

‘They thought that they heard her on the stair

When the hour was getting late,

But never a sign of her came back,

Then her husband, Grandpa died,

We always thought that she must be here

But somehow locked inside.’

We called the local clairvoyant in

And he brought his Tarot pack,

He stared long into his crystal ball

Till we had to call him back,

He chanted into the midnight hour

In a voice both loud and slow,

Till shuffling out of the Attic came

Not Sue, but Grandma Coe!

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good ending to the entertaining tale. I like the way you led to the good ending. I have almost caught-up with my reading. I will find another one of your books this month. Always a pleasure to read you story my friend.
Coyote

[Einstein Noodle]

ahahaha ...your fine humor, rhythm, rhyme and a bit of spooky .. another delightful read says i! and when you answered my one question of did she get out the window? i was sold on this story for sure .. nice job!
E.

[Tony Jordan]

Oh Wow!
You've outdone yourself here David.
I never expected that conclusion for one minute.
You painted the scenes; the anguish sweeping over the hard man who was the dad especially, excellently.
Jaw dropping stuff!