Needed.

"It is not an alarming tale", said she,
Leaning quite still against the door,
"And I can't say I'd ever met some one like he",
And with that she stood saying no more.

But it was seen in her posture,
Her fondness of romantic tales known,
And it had certainly come to cost her,
Letting that voice speak to her before she was grown.

It had first started late, deep into the night,
Simple small ramblings, such whispers to youth unheard.
But when she came to listen, it never brought fright,
And she mentioned to her Mother, that it was the friend she'd preferred.

Of course when it spoke by silk, by the candle light,
It was all quite agreeable, it's tone quite right.
Her laughter was heard one rainy night,
By a concerned neighbour who had otherwise thought her polite.

 Let's not agree that the girl had been mental,
For had you of known her you'd never have supposed,
That such a girl had menial conversations with the spectral
And could ever have been any thing other than decently composed.
 
"I suppose you could meet him", she said one day to I,
I was pleasantly surprised and agreed right away,
His voice entered swiftly, just as he in mind's eye.
And a day has not passed, that he has not come to play.