Last night I laid down in bed and started thinking about spooky things, like ghosts in the mirror, as I peeked in the dark - you know when you think you see things, but nothing is there? I hope! So then I had to get up and get my notebook,
and I wrote 9 poems. This is the first of them.
Happy reading & writing to you! :) Cheers.
Echoes
Sweeping like ghosts
Echoes of the scenery
A past life
It rubs against the light
Stealing sanity
Imagining a little time
Feeling nothing
Having lived it all
Into the spaces
Hidden in between
Rumours murmur
Beyond this endless room
Of dark and light
The image disperses
Drifts away
On an icy breeze
Playing games
It flies past the door
So pitch, bereft
Black stealing the light
It sighs without a breath
Stealing away
And it aches so
Knowing this is no more
This flickering candle
Bleeds silken wax
Upon the floor
And I cannot touch it
Copyright Vickie Johnstone
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