Ghosts

Well, here I am consorting with ghosts again.
Am I projecting a future, spooky attachment to life
when I should sensibly have left this mortal coil?


The very thought of the static, repetitious scenario,
coming through the same door for eternity,
is not appealing.

I guess that's the point. Let go in life,

maybe it will be easier to close the door

permanently when the time comes.

Heaven Beckons!


Method to my madness...a request has been made
for me to show more of my poetry.
I have from time to time posted a snippet here,
a snippet there, from my book of poetry,
"Two Ghosts", which "came out" last year.
Aha!

Certainly, not all my poems are ethereally tilted.
There's a song, a dance,
some seltzer down your pants.



Here is an entire poem,
one of the Two Ghosts
I keep tossing around.
Maybe one of these days
I'll post the other Ghost!



from:

LADIES IN WAITING


She sits in a straight backed chair

slouching like Whistler's Mother.

Head to toe in black,

she looks out of the night window.


I wonder if she's the nurse.

In the ward there are no other children.

I call out,

"Can you bring me some water?"


She turns to me

and I can't find her face.




c2009 all rights reserved



Two Ghosts
poems
Lyn Rochelle

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or at bookstores.





I want to thank Marti at Cameleon Conundrum
who has posted her interview. Check her out!