Sometimes I see you
standing all alone out there.
I smile and wave, as you vanish
into thin air.
A distant wind comes calling
to whisper a sweet ageless echo in my quiet ear,
in it I feel a warm breeze
... a breath drawing near.
I sense a simple presence
and feel light footfalls
upon the golden ground.
In the noonday sun
or the blue-moon of midnight,
a tender touch I know I know
pours down holding me long and tight.
like endless memories of a certain kind,
comes to abide the empty cooridors
of my lonesome and fragile mind.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Ghost by Smoky Hoss )
- Reality Is, Esther Thornburg
- Our days are clearly well-known, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Life, samuel sannoh
- Blind, Blind, Naveed Khalid
- A ripple's life, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- What is this world of ours ماهذا العالم .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Sinners الاثمون, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Touch-me-not, Naveed Khalid
- The Sword and the Plowshare, John F. McCullagh
- On the road a Recovery Poem, jeff newnham
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Autumn Song, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)