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.
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Comments about this poem (Ghost by Smoky Hoss )
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
- Heather Burns
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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