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haunted-house illumination ireland irish-folklore prose-poetry

Michael Tom Dillon

And His Big Auld Haunted House

Photo By B. Brennan.

Michael Tom Dillon
With a healthy ruddy face
Would stride past the family home
Here in Drummond Bellanagare,
Rising cane in hand
With a big auld
Smile and a warm
Mornings welcome
lived in the big auld house
Up the road and Then
A cut in some.

It was a spooky road come dusk
Not a road you would walk alone,
Something me Father
Would take delight in
Warming us up with ghost stories
Prepared the night before.

As me Father, sister and I approach this
Auld stone Irish house
Overgrown with weeds
And ivy,
Its character adding to the setting
Just right for our ghost story.

Michael Tom Dillon
Welcomes us with delight,
Visitors to his home are not
So many these days.
It may be summer but the
Auld open fire is welcome
In this big auld Irish home
Suitably ripe for
Our ghost stories!

Michael Tom Dillon offers us
Seating in old wooden chairs
As off he goes to make us some tea,
A cue for me Father
To play with our young imagination
As he taps the wooden floor
For an echo and a look of
Surprise as he shakes his head
As though beneath us
A secret well kept.

On Michael Tom Dillons return
My father asks all the right questions
Carefully planted in our
Curious gullible minds
To add to the mystique of Ireland’s
Folklore, beloved the tales
Of ghosts in auld houses
Ready to rattle our spines
Underneath our tingling skin,
Uncontrollable Hairs standing up
On the back of our undoubting necks
With shivering anticipation
Of the fright that never came,
Almost to a vague disappointment
Of facing the fantastical unknown
You could carry away with you and say
In earnest,

The tales of auld all told are true!


Michael Tom Dillon was originally published in ILLUMINATION on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

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ireland nostalgia poem poetry travel

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