Something

Past the gravestones, moon and stars, I pushed hard against the wrought iron gate, it creaked noisily groaning slowly against forbidding weeds and there on the lawn was the ghostly figure of Mr Greed, loudly demanding 'more, more, more cake please and where's the sugar for my cup of tea?' All around piled high on the ground were bank books, savings books, pots of gold. He looked forlorn, I asked him why, to which he replied, 'well I did take it with me, but there's nothing to buy, but slices of cake and cups of tea. Oh why oh why has thou forsaken me?' re Jesus many years ago. So I pulled up a seat and we listened to the music, coming from the large marquee, 'what's in there?' I ventured to ask, 'a party' he replied 'for all the other ghosts.' I couldn't quite understand, so I something asked, 'why don't you join in?', 'I can't I can't, I won't, for I can not carry all these worldly goods all in one go, someone may sneak out and pilfer some of my money, so I will sit here all alone', he simpered, he whined, for I think he knew how silly he was being. I couldn't help but observe and told him, 'you are sitting in perpetual sadness, all for the love of this money, is it not time to let go, join in and have some fun', I prompted I encouraged with large eyes of sincerity. He looked at me and pondered, he had a long hard think, then did confess, he did rather fancy the ghost of beauty. So I led him gently by the hand across the lawn to the opening of the large marquee, we both peeked and peered inside. There were trumpets, saxophones drums and trombones, playing, swinging loudly and everyone was dancing, the party was in full flow. So I bade him farewell as he bent down and kissed me and with one last look over my shoulder I walked back past the gravestones, moon and stars.