The ghosts who haunt my house at night
Would call each other names and fight.
I'd shout, "Shut up. I'm trying to think."
In truth I needed peace to drink.

The noise would cease and peace would reign.
From further fighting they'd refrain.
An hour or two of this would pass.
They'd be as quiet as folk at mass.

The whispering would then begin.
The lack of tonic in my gin
Would calm my nerves. I wouldn't shout.
Wisdom pours out from my mouth

After I've put good drink in.
I'd tell the ghosts the way to win
The game of life. They'd played a set
And stopped to play the game of death.

One night I dimmed lights in my head
And thought the time had come for bed
When suddenly a priest appeared.
He spat out words through his thick beard.

The words were weapons used on me,
To make my feet retreat and flee.
The crucifix in his right hand
Was telling me that I was banned.

I stood my ground. I told the priest
He wasn't talking to the Beast.
He managed to control his fear
And he explained his presence here.

He said his name was Father Jim
And that the ghosts enlisted him
To exorcise me from this place,
Evicting me from my own base.

This story made me feel ashamed.
The fault was mine -- myself I blamed.
I'd never failed to be unkind
To my two ghosts. I'd been so blind.

I'd shouted at them every night.
My bark was far worse than my bite
But still they lived in constant fear.
I vowed to fill their lives with cheer.

I asked them if they'd like to go
To see a match and they said no.
My offer made them more afraid.
They feared a trick, a trap I'd made.

I told them I had changed my ways.
From now on they'd get lots of praise.
I'd take an interest in their lives
And spend less time around my knives.

They realised there was no catch.
They let me take them to the match.
The ghosts said they enjoyed this outing.
I strained hard to refrain from shouting.

In this I failed, but all my words
Were aimed at two opposing herds
Who fought each other for a ball.
The ref advised against a brawl.

I bought some ice creams and some sweets.
The ghosts said 'thanks' for these small treats.
Since then we've been to many games.
We've seen the players' cars in flames.

We often play Monopoly,
And sometimes chess, improperly.
I'm sure our good rapport will last.
Their days of fear are in the past.