Sonnet 90, Spectral Rising
Sonnet 90, Spectral Rising (Shakespearean)
As the last dead leaf falls from a tall tree,
spiraling into piles upon the sleigh;
the sun drops into the furious sea;
time for the winter and darkness to play.
In a blasphemous act of regaling
Reach from the cold earth resting in your grave;
To the hate and lies forever-failing.
Recapturing the breath your mother gave.
A soul contains sonnets gifted to all.
serenades of sweet grace, beauty and love.
Your life was born from decadence and sprawl
admit defeat and grasp wings of a dove.
Spend time reading a weathered, gray headstone
Floating from the house of the dead, alone.
2/24/2021
Ghost Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Copyright © Ken Allan Dronsfield | Year Posted 2021
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