Evening Plaits

There is a ghost who waits
Whilst thee evening plaits
Combs of shadow for your moonlight hair,
Turn with a gasp your heart to clasp
Although you know no one is there
To warm the chill of a love long lost
With the haunting comforts of her arms
Unfound,
You wander through the hole she left
You feel alone and must know
Every moment was a gift to learn
Wisdom you must believe
To give is better than to receive
So receive your lonely straits
Whilst the evening plaits
There is a ghost who waits
In the shadows that comb her moonlight hair .



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 652 times
Written on 2014-04-06 at 01:48

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