Midnight Ramblin's

THE HOUSE

The big old house stands silent and forlorn,
There’s no way to know how many were born.

Under the caving roof of such a fine house,
So long now, deserted by man and mouse.

Faded wallpaper hangs from the ceiling and walls,
Boards are creaky, in those long dark halls.

Some say, at night, if you dare to pass,
The old house is illuminated, as if it were glass.

They tell of a beautiful lady, dressed in blue,
As she calls out mournfully, for her baby, Hugh.

Though I have been there, I have not seen this sight,
Never wandered there alone, at the hour of midnight.

No matter what’s there or what others may tell,
I feel that I and the house, know each other well.

Most who know of it, shun the old house at night,
But, to me, it’s a mysteriously, beautiful sight.

I love those crumbling walls, the ragged old ceilings,
And, “Why,” you may ask, “do I have these feelings”?

The mystery, if you knew it, is quite simply, you see?
For the one she is calling for, ...... is me.

From out of a past, I have never lived in or known,
At a time, long ago, when this house was a home.

I have loved this old house and the lady loved me,
I'll return there tonight, and hope that she -

Will come for me, calling, as I sit in the rain,
Sit there waiting; listening, for her to call my name.

I'll welcome the ghost, the decay, and the lady in blue,
For it is I, that she calls for; I was her baby Hugh.

Jay Cee ~~ ©

(Found in the yard of a crumbling old mansion in Copiah County, Mississippi)

INDEX
Section I

"AS MY LOVE LIES SLEEPING" "MY FRIEND 'FOOTS'" "BLUE MORNING GLORIES"

"THE HEART AND SOUL OF MAN" "SHADOWS OF A DAY NOW DYING" "THREE FINE FAT LADY BUGS"

"THE OLD TIME FARMER" "AS IT BECOMES FALL" "THE HOME"

"THE SCHOOL MARM" "TIME FLIES AND MUD PIES" "AGE OF A VETERAN"

"SECRETS OF THE SEA" "THE HOUSE" "NIGHTS AND SUCH"

"A LOVE POEM… I AM" "THE OLD CEMETERY" "FREE SPIRIT"

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Writings published on this website are for your personal enjoyment. Ownership of each selection in this collection remains with the author in accordance with the 1976 Copyright Act. You may quote a text on a personal website only with proper credit given to the author. In no case may any of the writings be used for any commercial publication or in any way resulting in monetary gain by others.

First Published: 25-Aug-2007 10:07 AM - Last Update: 29-Mar-2013 10:28 AM
© 2007 by Midnight Ramblin's; Owner: Jean "Jay Cee" Clark - All Rights Reserved
Our homepage is: Midnight Ramblin's

Site hosted by: Tripod

THE HOUSE

The big old house stands silent and forlorn,
There’s no way to know how many were born.

Under the caving roof of such a fine house,
So long now, deserted by man and mouse.

Faded wallpaper hangs from the ceiling and walls,
Boards are creaky, in those long dark halls.

Some say, at night, if you dare to pass,
The old house is illuminated, as if it were glass.

They tell of a beautiful lady, dressed in blue,
As she calls out mournfully, for her baby, Hugh.

Though I have been there, I have not seen this sight,
Never wandered there alone, at the hour of midnight.

No matter what’s there or what others may tell,
I feel that I and the house, know each other well.

Most who know of it, shun the old house at night,
But, to me, it’s a mysteriously, beautiful sight.

I love those crumbling walls, the ragged old ceilings,
And, “Why,” you may ask, “do I have these feelings”?

The mystery, if you knew it, is quite simply, you see?
For the one she is calling for, ...... is me.

From out of a past, I have never lived in or known,
At a time, long ago, when this house was a home.

I have loved this old house and the lady loved me,
I'll return there tonight, and hope that she -

Will come for me, calling, as I sit in the rain,
Sit there waiting; listening, for her to call my name.

I'll welcome the ghost, the decay, and the lady in blue,
For it is I, that she calls for; I was her baby Hugh.

INDEX
Section I

RETURN TO HOMEPAGE

[GO TO INDEX II]

[GO TO INDEX IIi]

[Before going to next page selection, please stop audio on current page by double clicking on the square above!]

First Published: 25-Aug-2007 10:07 AM - Last Update: 29-Mar-2013 10:28 AM
© 2007 by Midnight Ramblin's; Owner: Jean "Jay Cee" Clark - All Rights Reserved
Our homepage is: Midnight Ramblin's

Site hosted by: Tripod

THE HOUSE

The big old house stands silent and forlorn,There’s no way to know how many were born.

Under the caving roof of such a fine house,So long now, deserted by man and mouse.

Faded wallpaper hangs from the ceiling and walls,Boards are creaky, in those long dark halls.

Some say, at night, if you dare to pass,The old house is illuminated, as if it were glass.

They tell of a beautiful lady, dressed in blue,As she calls out mournfully, for her baby, Hugh.

Though I have been there, I have not seen this sight,Never wandered there alone, at the hour of midnight.

No matter what’s there or what others may tell,I feel that I and the house, know each other well.

Most who know of it, shun the old house at night,But, to me, it’s a mysteriously, beautiful sight.

I love those crumbling walls, the ragged old ceilings,And, “Why,” you may ask, “do I have these feelings”?

The mystery, if you knew it, is quite simply, you see?For the one she is calling for, ...... is me.

From out of a past, I have never lived in or known,At a time, long ago, when this house was a home.

I have loved this old house and the lady loved me,I'll return there tonight, and hope that she -

Will come for me, calling, as I sit in the rain,Sit there waiting; listening, for her to call my name.

I'll welcome the ghost, the decay, and the lady in blue,For it is I, that she calls for; I was her baby Hugh.

INDEXSection I

RETURN TO HOMEPAGE

[GO TO INDEX II]

[GO TO INDEX IIi]

First Published: 25-Aug-2007 10:07 AM - Last Update: 29-Mar-2013 10:28 AM© 2007 by Midnight Ramblin's; Owner: Jean "Jay Cee" Clark - All Rights ReservedOur homepage is: Midnight Ramblin's

Site hosted by: Tripod

The big old house stands silent and forlorn,
There’s no way to know how many were born.

Under the caving roof of such a fine house,
So long now, deserted by man and mouse.

Faded wallpaper hangs from the ceiling and walls,
Boards are creaky, in those long dark halls.

Some say, at night, if you dare to pass,
The old house is illuminated, as if it were glass.

They tell of a beautiful lady, dressed in blue,
As she calls out mournfully, for her baby, Hugh.

Though I have been there, I have not seen this sight,
Never wandered there alone, at the hour of midnight.

No matter what’s there or what others may tell,
I feel that I and the house, know each other well.

Most who know of it, shun the old house at night,
But, to me, it’s a mysteriously, beautiful sight.

I love those crumbling walls, the ragged old ceilings,
And, “Why,” you may ask, “do I have these feelings”?

The mystery, if you knew it, is quite simply, you see?
For the one she is calling for, ...... is me.

From out of a past, I have never lived in or known,
At a time, long ago, when this house was a home.

I have loved this old house and the lady loved me,
I'll return there tonight, and hope that she -

Will come for me, calling, as I sit in the rain,
Sit there waiting; listening, for her to call my name.

I'll welcome the ghost, the decay, and the lady in blue,
For it is I, that she calls for; I was her baby Hugh.

INDEX
Section I

First Published: 25-Aug-2007 10:07 AM - Last Update: 29-Mar-2013 10:28 AM
© 2007 by Midnight Ramblin's; Owner: Jean "Jay Cee" Clark - All Rights Reserved
Our homepage is: Midnight Ramblin's