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
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
