Ghosts Of War Poem by Steven Cooke

Within the fog of did you see?
An old woman, made up to the nines
Can be seen in the corner of the non-believers eye
Purse in hand and a glass of wine
Waiting for a lover who never comes

Just shadows on the wall
Whispering names, through
Spiders silk, the inheritors
Of this forgotten, debutants ball

While Portraits glare at vacant laughter
An echoed waltz swirls
The embrace of loves decay,
Images now jailed within the Crystal shards
Of a fallen chandelier

A tear of Woman wears mourning face well,
This vigil Mask hiding mortality lost
Now broken and marking time,

Love lies lost in the barbed wire of war
Fallen stars to shine no more
Their Remembrance merging into darkness
Behind a cloudless unforgiving sky

Alone is the corpse in cratered field
Covered by poppies blood
Walked on by ghosts to come

Another Whispered soul is roaming
The guns have left their post
And Peace is just an illusion
For yet another Flanders ghost

This cruel winter’s night
The withered rose has lost its fragrance
The champagne has all gone flat
And love calls without an answer
For silence is the memory
And it is we
Who walk hand in hand
With our ghosts of War?