"The spirits of the dead who stood in life before thee, are again"                     -Edgar Allen Poe            Greetings & Welcome                  To SpiritKeepers! kklioioioioioooo                                                                The "White Lady" Of Bachelors Grove         Work hard to unearth the new hauntings and          keep the old lore         alive, for many of the stories        That shaded our cemeteries and lingered over our        abandoned buildings are forever lost.      So while some of us        will wonder about the light burning in the old       warehouse,        or quicken our step in the      dusky graveyard, or pause to make sure those      are our own      footsteps echoing off the attic wall �?most of us      won’t.       Yesterday’s stories, like yesterday’s spirits,     draw their     power from being remembered. In the absence     of memory,       legends die, and like forgotten ghosts are      left to fade away.                          - Joe Richardson-                                                                                                                                         The Brown Lady Of Raynham Hall                                                            I am Ghost        I am in the shadow that creeps across your wall       And in the fingers of the wind as it tangles up your           hair;       I am in the corner of the eye of the stanger lurking by;       I am Ghost.       I am in the shriek that shatters your sleep      And in the dance of the branches of the      dying autumn  trees;     I am in the silence and in the shouting, too;     I am Ghost.     I am in tears weeping on your window    And reflected in the puddle in a fold between the     ripples;     I am in the loneliness as she reaches for the phone,      And in the empty house, that aches for a family      that will never return;      I am Ghost.     I am in the echo of hollow laughter gone;     I am in the rip in the wallpaper and in the     old patterns peeking through     And in the yellowed newspaper stacked in     the hall;     I am Ghost.      I am in the invitation forgotten in the drawer     And in the legs of the spider who lives beside     the light;      I am in the rusty ring on the claw-footed tub.      I am Ghost.                           By: Leslie Rule