Ghost
GHOST
Oh, gentle ghost, you come and then you go,
with puzzles of the past, unanswered still,
your fragrance calls to mind, things I don't know,
from every word you give, I take my fill.
Tis life's great tragedy, you'd have me wear,
for all the days and nights, I've left to hold,
but spirit brings the dark, and takes me where
I reach the all alone, not growing old.
Your beauty is my breath--my greatest sin,
and has your mother known you all this well,
to say from where you come, where I have been?
The things she cannot know, she cannot tell.
Oh, gentle ghost, I fail deep in your eyes,
into a death that never truly dies.
© ron wilson
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2014
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