A dark stormy night,

A streak of light flashes apon the house.

What you would call the haunted house

Was as silent as a mouse.

Quite a sight for a ghost

Or maybe a host. 

You might hear a toast of great joy,

While little ones play with toys.

However, I see this haunted house differently. 

It is not as silent as a mouse,

It is as loud as a lion.

Wind blowing like hawaiian breeze. 

The sight doesn’t appeal to diamonds,

Probably not as big as an island.

Not as great joy as told in a toast,

But a boast thought spoken to inspire. 

This haunted house isn’t as scary as we thought,

But we can live in an unwary place to call

home.