Still weary and drunk, from the taverns indulgence
Passing on my way, to the journey of my reverence
Feet heavy upon autumn leaves, breathe so misted
Chill of this air, as the darker tress seemingly listed
That from the crossing, of saving time takes me here
Through the courtyard of the church, thus not to fear
That in these surrounds, of dark lit graves and stones
Catching my ears of a distant owl, singing in moans
Something is abound here, as the night air is not still
As my cloak I pull closer, tighter, I sense a new chill
Toward the courtyard and across, as far as I can see
Through the shadows obscured by mist, I should flee
Though transfixed and frozen, to my hearts thunder
The shocking visage, of an apparition doth yonder
Hovering before me, elegant yet such ghostly terror
Myself unable to move from this, my face is horror
As mists seem to depart a pathway, to draw closer
I recognise these murky features, and that of her
A woman I see, I can tell from her Victorian gown
Her face she is crying, over the grave, her new crown
Though a fate has been realised, of her untimely death
A breaking of a heart this night, in her spectral breath
Sobs without sound, no mist exhales from her mouth
Yet so much reality in her presence, figure of couth
Do I speak to this ghost? A word uttered to disturb
She would hear me in the living? Like a song of bird
In silence I stand, captured in the witnessing of this
As slowly and seemingly in time, that erased bliss
Her fading is sinister, as this apparition’s withdrawal
Returning the boundaries of the living, to the dead pool
What word can I speak of this, that insane I be claimed?
A secret in me to keep, witnessing of a ghost unnamed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another of your masterpieces, VG. I could almost feel the room becoming chilled as I read this.............superbly atmospheric. Love, Fran xx