Just outside Ipswich is a town Rosewood,
One main road but two local country hotels,
Both bearing the memories of childhood,
but only one pub has a ghost story to tell.
Purchased by the Councillor eight years ago,
Tales of a ghost that walks the stairs at night,
and unexplained wet beds have said to show,
Publican recalls he heard the ghost with fight.
We were in our bed talking through the day,
the staff had left and there were no guests,
the missus bolted up right, ‘I told her to stay’,
we heard someone coming towards the west.
‘I was half out of bed’, the publican said to me,
when I heard the top few stairs stop creeping,
then the sound of shuffle footsteps towards me,
I would dismiss this story except my mate speaking.
He shared with me the night he was closing up,
and the last of the night staff said ‘good-bye’,
hearing some movement in bar that was shut,
upon unlocking the bar he saw a glass of wine.
Seeing no other obvious other signs of disturbance,
he shook his head in dismiss, as simply been forgotten,
to put away the glass caught with staff remembrance,
Locking up and walk up the stairs the ghost had trodden.
Some weeks later it was his turn to clean the rooms,
When he went to strip bed he found it soaking wet,
The sheets went flying fear the mattress was worn,
Relieved when all was needed was an air before sunset.
Now tales of the games the ghost plays with staff,
Are talk about in pub bars across Ipswich region,
Egged on by Council Paul Tully Ipswich start laugh,
The publican insisted his ghost was now legend.
Such lofty tales and specific ghost details,
Drew the media to investigate this spin,
Soon Dave’s ghost had channel 7 on its trail
In quest to separate truth from local spin.
Well Paul was not impressed investigation showed,
This local tale had more to it than the local jokes,
The ghost hunter concluded this was fit for his show,
Silencing who jostle Dave and tales of which he spoke.
Debbie Chilton (c) Copyright 2012
I did! I did! I really did!
