20/02/2025
Upon the fells, where mists do creep,
And Kendal’s waters softly sleep,
The ghostly forms, with blacked eyes
Roam the streets, beneath the skies.
The river flows , a silver thread,
Reflecting the moon, and the mysteries bred
Within the heart of our fair town
Where ghosts do linger, and secrets drown.
A ghostly tale, a silent plea, poor
souls adrift, eternally.
New Shambles’s charm, to Town Hall’s grace,
The spectral form, we do embrace,
A low dark shadow from the fells
A ghostly lady in the Ring o Bells.
So wander through Kendal's haunted night,
And stay close by the safety of light,
For in the air, whispers soft and low,
The ghosts of Kendal, come and go.