How I Started Writing

Once I met a brooding old ghost

More than spiders this scared me the most

But he sat at the table reading my book

Unlike other ghosts he didn't look like a crook

I stand there staring ....petrified

My book in danger my fear amplified

But he's flipping the pages glued to the chair

Handling my book with immense care

Then to him, I call out

Forcing myself to open my mouth

He asked me if he could borrow that book

With a fearful nod I agreed

How he rewarded me for my deed?

He replaced with a talent for the book that he took!!!