A night ride into the unknown

The roaring of the engine, the feeling of the breeze
As the boy rides his motorcycle with ease.
Through the winding roads, he finds his way
To an old inn that beckons him to stay.

The building stands tall, a relic of the past,
Whispers of ghostly tales that seem to last.
But the boy pays no mind, for he needs a room,
And he’s heard the innkeeper’s friendly gloom.

He parks his bike and steps inside—
The creaking floors, the shadows that hide.
He’s greeted by the innkeeper with a warm smile,
And he feels a shiver run down his spine.

As he settles in for the night’s rest,
He can’t help but feel the inn’s eerie zest.
But soon sleep takes over, and he drifts away
To the land of dreams, where the ghosts all play.

When he awakes, the sun is shining bright.
He gathers his things, ready to take flight.
But as he leaves, he can’t help but ponder
The inn that was once haunted, now filled with wonder.

For the boy had stayed the night without fear,
And though the tales were old, he had nothing to jeer.
The ghostly whispers, the shadows that danced,
Had left him with memories and a newfound romance.

With the old inn that had once been a ghost,
But now stood as a place he loved the most.
And as he revs his engine, ready to ride,
He knows he’ll return to the inn that can’t hide.

By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)