A preternatural end-of-November day,
Skies sober, a dark cloud on Thursday,
Over Muncaster, the Castle haunted,
With many a room ancient, enchanted.
Firstly boardroom, a business meeting space,
Logs constantly fed the vintage fireplace.
Medieval place, with character all the way,
Artworks and textiles stunning the hallway.
Plenty of activities to partake, into the night,
Archery, crossbows, axe-throwing like a knight.
A guided tour of the Castle offered deep insight,
With a grand dinner indulgence next in sight.
Retired to Lady Muncaster, like a President,
Neighbour to Maggie, the ghostly resident.
No locked doors, not a single line of defence,
Against any strange Castle occurrence.
In the blustery wind of the dark night,
Hear the hideous screams and sighs alight,
Shrieks of decaying doors and windows,
See pendulous lights and moving shadows.
Feel the heartbeat and hairs rise, in fear,
How a desperate desire develops, to clear,
All possessions and not stay for too long,
This ghastly Castle is not safe to belong!