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Ghost In This House by Tony WhitakerI sit, in a trance, and see the snow
lightly falling like sifted flour;
a serene scene as I relive, again
the what of you and me
I watch you standing there
awash in white satin at aisle's end
you walk between empty gilded pews
all afloat amid warm cotton clouds
of some celestial chapel
A faceless priest gives witness
as our eyes lock in mocked silence
as we exchange muffled vows
which only He can hear
But then, as always, I awake
to no matrimonial victory march
but a sense again of these
shackled feet and hands
amid memories which seem to shuffle
down some damp and darkened street
I feel the tears and years
beneath this withered rind
but I will always cherish
these scars, which outgrew you
and the brilliance of the ore
which we once mined
01/06/2009 Author's Note: I enjoy being "in the moment" of lost love. Call me sick, but it inspires me!
Posted on 01/06/2009 Copyright © 2010 Tony Whitaker
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/06/09 at 10:12 AM No argument on the inspiration part. This is great work, man. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/06/09 at 01:29 PM Really a fine piece, Tony! |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 01/06/09 at 02:45 PM The imagery is elegant and the message oh so clear, so whatever the inspiration it is worthy of the writing. smh |
| Posted by Alisa Js on 01/07/09 at 12:20 AM Aloha Tony....I certainly can relate to this one in a very personal way... .memories.. such awesome memories... alisa ;-0 |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 01/29/09 at 08:20 PM Beautifully expressed..no matter the time..we seek the past if only just to learn from it somehow. Thanks Tony! |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 04/22/09 at 07:44 PM Poignant reflection, tenderly and eloquently expressed. |
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