Ghostly Whispers
In the hush of the valley
laid before me,
imprints of life
are sprawled to see
A tractor at rest
broken from work,
and a shovel,no handle
stuck into the dirt
A buggy on stumps
whose wheels lay in rings,
its harness in pieces
hangs from some swings
And the windmill of life
turns quietly round,
and creatures of earth
do not utter a sound
The wind dusts a barn
as ghost balls blow in,
and the doors are flapping
but no ones within
Phantoms in shadows
haunt this land,
its people have returned
to rest in the sand
Picks and axes
are rusting to fray,
their life of use
is worn away
The ghosts of life
dwell all around,
but century’s are rotting
at rest on the ground
And the spirits do dwell
without any face,
in deserted towns
left in disgrace
Eerie this town
whispers to me,
bring me alive
and set my soul free
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