On a bluff overlooking a river that bears its name
lies a city of secret histories and ghostly acclaim.
Oh Savannah, you city of spectral delight,
how you can draw a chill on a hot, humid night.
Northernmost on Bull Street you'll find Johnson Square,
its haunted breath hangs heavy in the air.
The city boasts Spanish Moss hanging from every tree,
but in Johnson Square there is no hanging moss to see.
Some claim the moss won't grow over the bones of Nathaniel Greene,
others say it is for a child whose phantom form is often seen.
In the late nineteenth century, little Gracie lived on the square,
and she loved to greet any travelers that she would see there.
Despite her sweet nature death came and swept her away,
But travelers still see her waving on Johnson Square to this day.
And if you dare go as the stars start to pepper the sky,
you just might see this ghostly girl out of the corner of your eye.
Poem Written by Christopher Soucy of Odd Lot Improv.