The Ghost

The Ghost

 

She creeps in and out on the brink of consciousness

Slowly making her way to my bed side

I roll over never feeling her touch, lost in my own,

She lays by my side

 

She touches my forehead and my brows begin to furrow

Dreams are coming and she begins to burrow

Further into my mind, to see what she may find

A spirit thought dead she brings back to life

 

I toss and turn as the visions become vivid 

A flowing white dress, a soft glowing smile,

But skin so cold so my heart grows mild.

 

A familiar face of someone long ago 

Appearing before me but I can not go

Her gaze holds me captive as we begin to talk

She reaches for me to help me walk

 

But seeing her here, like this, has me weary

A love long ago once thought to be dreamy

Has shown itself once more not fearing

The consequences of life but trying to bring healing

 

I turn over to face her and I open my eyes

The room grows dark and then I realize

The ebony skin, the cat like eyes

Were all just a dream, to my demise.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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