I often walk passed the house on the hill,
The place that sometimes gives me a chill,
At times, I hear a wailing sound
That appears to come from all around.
The trees cast shadows from morn ‘til night
…Even when there’s little light.
A spooky fog appears to gather around
And seems to ‘settle’ just above the ground.
Rumours say the woman who lives there
(With a long pointy nose and snow white hair)
Uses magic and spells to pass her day
But who listens to rumours anyway?
Yesterday, I saw a figure wave
Beckoning me – but I wasn’t brave…
She was standing there in a pale blue dress
She’s in that picture now… can you see her – yes?
She’s in that window, looking down the hill
See if her image gives you a chill…