he first saw her in the dark corridor
down from his room on the seventeenth floor,
a carriage dress of black and gray,
a hat and gloves from yesterday.
she motioned towards him, bade him come,
he took a timid step or two,
then watched as hall light she moved from
and mystery her shadow threw.
steps forward then he chanced to take,
the silence soon he chanced to break,
‘miss, pardon but i must confess,
you wear a most uncommon dress,
i don’t believe i’ve seen you here,
around this old hotel before,
perhaps you’d humor me, my dear,
and let me walk you to your doorɉ۪
at this the lady smiled and turned,
and laughter soft the man discerned,
and watched as carriage dress and hat
and gloves and lady just like that
became as one with hallway wall,
and not a trace or sign was there,
of ghostly lady in the hall,
just but a hint of perfumed air.
the man could scarce believe his eyes,
trembling, slow to realize,
the lady he was speaking to,
had vanished then and this be true -
that corridors of old hotels
sometimes hold more than meets the eye,
and this hotel, the story tells,
of a lady dressed from days gone by:
a lady in a carriage dress,
was by herself but nonetheless,
sensed company across the hall,
a man along the darkened wall,
she raised her hand to beckon him,
the lonely lady by herself,
the man dressed strange, in light so dim,
began to move towards her himself.
he asked if he could walk with her,
unto her door, the gentle sir,
she turned and smiled and walked a bit,
a laugh the lady did admit,
but turning round to face him then,
she saw instead an empty wall,
how to explain what happens when,
a body fades in darkened hall?
the lady scarce believed her eyes,
trembling, slow to realize,
the man that she was speaking to,
had vanished then and this be true -
that corridors of old hotels
sometimes hold more than meets the eye,
and this hotel, the story tells,
of two fair ghosts from days gone by.
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