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This Garden Called Life
by J. Joy Matthews Alford - Sistah Joy
This is my latest work. I hope you enjoy it.
16 May 2005
A visage forms from mystic memory and fog.
A flowery scent fills the air.
Who knows this spirit is here?
Who knows why she lingers there?
You spy her whispy form as she floats by.
A great sadness filling your soul.
You second guess yourself and blink your eyes.
What? Wait. Where did she go?
Your mind wonders who she is?
An urge to find out more.
Who is this spirit that is here?
Why does she linger there?
A deep dread creeps upon you.
As you spy her once more.
Her poor heart broken once and final.
Now she dwells restless eternal.
A strained sob escapes your breast.
Her face seems to look upon you.
A desperate pain is felt.
Your emotions, not your own, into despair melt
Overwhelmed, you run away.
To find that day is dawning.
Was what you saw real?
your imagination running?
You know your home is not your own.
It is she who still lives here.
Sharing your dwelling with this lonely ghost.
Do not give into your fear.
You wait, her visage forming in the fog.
That flowery scent fills the air.
You know the spirit has come again.
You know why she lingers here.
A sad, knowing smile upon your face.
She drifts about you to and fro.
She seeks happiness again.
To tell her story and go.
You take your pen to paper.
Her story you will write.
Now her memory no longer fades.
She will be free this night.
Her visage no longer forms in the fog.
That flowery scent filling air.
The spirit not coming again.
She no longer lingers there.