A True Ghost Story
My grandfather's house at Maypajo
It was built in year nineteen o' five
Of the sturdy wood 'kamagong'
And for ninety long years it survived.
It had delicate capiz- shelled windows
And hard wooden planks for its floors
Wide beams on ceilings that show
Fine architecture and Spanish decor.
In the twenties it held various parties
And its rooms may have held many guests
My aunts and my Mom were real beauties
And I'm sure many gents laid their quests.
But the second World War had been deadly
The Japanese fired many a mortar
Its plastered walls bared testimony
To the ugly devastation of war.
That house witnessed many departures
As its tenants soon married away.
Grandfather, its permanent fixture
He would walk its rooms night and day.
But the years saw him slowly yielding
To the rigors of approaching old age
Like his old house that was depreciating
He was closing and turning Time's page.
At death bed he had wanted to see
(For the house in his will was not clear)
His second daughter, my dear Aunt Nellie
Was summoned for some things she should hear.
But alas, it was rather too late
And the dying man's word left unsaid
For Death was the guest who can't wait
When Aunt Nellie came, he was dead.
Aunt Nellie claimed the property
Said she had the title to her name
Though her four siblings begged to disagree
Her lawyers legalized it all the same
The house boldly stood through the years,
But there were some weird happenings
The neighbors and people had fears,
Some saw an old man at night... walking.
Some said when they looked for my aunt
An old man peered through the window
Informed them that the house was vacant
And to church my aunt with her son did go.
My own brother's nanny had witnessed it
In a story that turned up our hairs
She turned to see an old man without feet
In slow motion descending the stairs!
We showed her Grandfather's old photo
And she point blank said 'That's him! '
The man she saw in white tuxedo
Had been roaming the house at whim.
Though I have never seen a ghost
And consider them just halloween fun
This true story is fearful at the most
In that house, the old man there walks on.
-
This is a true story, and the house, though sold and renovated,
still has its 'permanent tenant' and many have seen him.
Copyright Cynthia Buhain Baello
February 6,2010
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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