Ghosts
I learned I loved Summer after it left.
I fell for the curve of her pretty lips
Her honey-brown eyes, the sway of her hips.
But Winter's swift coming leaves me bereft.
Still, I'm haunted by images of deft
Piano-playing fingers. Music trips
By, over and over, and sweet sound grips
My mind. She owns my soul, a tiny theft.
I wish those ancient warm and sunny days
Could stop shining bruising rays on my heart.
I know she has gone for the final time.
So leave this old empty tree it's malaise
As I barely exist, so far apart
from her, my ghost, trapped in the Wintertime.
Dear Peter
As the night lays cold,
And the flame flickers on.
My thimble rests hold
Of all the days gone.
Of the trust,
Of the faith,
And of the pixie dust-
That night like a wraith.
The window is open,
Forever in wait for you.
The thimble unspoken,
Remembering our last adieu.
Why did I say goodbye all those years ago?
Is this my medicine within its cup?
They say it’s time to let go.
And now it’s bottoms up.
The sticky sweet your absence left behind,
Has plagued my fate,
And those words still wrack my mind,
The ones of where you’ll wait.
The tales others tell
Of what you truly do,
I now know too well.
Of why you really flew..
For, Peter, I need a rescue-
From the hangman’s tree.
Because I’m longing for you
And out of the three needed to flee.
