by Dave Schipper © 2006 Rose Riversongs
The ghosts of St. Augustine are an eerie sight
On rooftops, porches, and trees they come out at night
They walk this ancient ground, while their stories are told
By guides with lanterns, recounting tales of old.
The white gown of the bride
The candle in the night
The widow on the stairs
The renters Miss Faye scares
Ghosts of St. Augustine
Are the sights to be seen
Walk the cobblestone streets
And enjoy whom you meet
Pass the Bishop’s shrine and see the wayward bride
Who terrified those children tenting that night
Woke them with a cold hand brought screams and bone chills
Now she walks alone, mourning a love unfulfilled.
The white gown of the bride
The candle in the night
The widow on the stairs
The renters Miss Faye scares
Ghosts of St. Augustine
Are the sights to be seen
Walk the cobblestone streets
And enjoy whom you meet
Gmen chasing rum runners stayed at her Inn
Smugglers paid top dollar for that information
A light on the widow’s walk, meant the coast was clear
Some folks still see it and feel a chill of fear.
1 comment:
I really like this one, it sends chills and paints a really cool picture in the mind.
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