-- Ghost Poem --

By John Herlihy

The ghost poem arrives with nocturnal mist,

When night’s fairies and fireflies are at play.

Prodigal dreams never realized, always missed,

Paving their return with flower petals on the way.

Written down on paper, the poem loses privacy,

Noble sentiments quietly whispered in eager ears.

Like an open secret, full of such enduring intimacy,

Stirring waves of joy, sorrow, laughter and tears.

Yearning of the poet’s soul burning as a lit coal,

Phantom ideas flitted between the forest trees.

Verses scripted on the shiny plate of the soul,

The humble poet bows his head on bended knees.

The inner voice of wonder gently calling and calling,

Many questions with no answers, just vague insight.

The miraculous signs of nature enthralling, enthralling,

As the stars whisper mysteries in the dark of night.

The poet falls into gentle slumber in the coming dawn,

The ghosts and spirits of poets past have taken their leave.

With the arrival of day’s light, the poem is finally born,

The echoes of the words and verses their magic to weave.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Friday 31 March 2023