One spooky night in October,
I was walking back home alone,
I was passing my neighbour’s house,
When I heard a terrible moan.
I looked around, frightened and scared,
Then I laughed at myself and grinned,
“You’re being silly, it’s nothing.
It was probably just the wind.”
But that’s when I heard it again,
A frightening, worrisome whine.
It came from the neighbour’s garden.
From a ghost on the washing line.
The phantom was pale and white,
It fluttered and flapped in the breeze,
So I screamed and ran to my door,
Desperately clutching my keys.
I climbed upstairs to my bedroom,
Relieved to be in, off the streets,
But another ghost was waiting,
Where my husband was changing the sheets.
I looked at my hubby and nodded,
Then we grappled and wrestled the ghoul,
We chucked him in the washing machine,
Along with a smol bio capsule.
He sloshed in a high spin cycle,
I watched as the ghost washed away,
The sheet came out white, bright and clean,
my smol capsule had saved the day.
Image credit - Aled Lewis
big is dead, long live smol.
