Casper was a lad of seven when he entered Greyfriars Priory.
He lived his days in the granary checking in the sacks of grain
And checking them out again
He petted the granary cat
Who ate the rats and mice and soon grew fat
But day arrived when Casper died
No one mourned, no one cried
The friars took his body away
Put it into a boat and ferried it downriver
To the sea
But his spirit they left
To haunt me
Until a year ago I lived at the back of those houses in a place built in 1603 on the ruins of Greyfriars Priory. There was a “presence” who I named Casper. This is to honour him.