A gentleman in every way.
A relic from a bygone day.
His clothes well cut but out of date,
in his own time a fashion plate.
He’s not as he appears to be.
He is a ghost apparently.
Always appears at half past three
then disappears mysteriously.
Though who he was nobody knows.
A gentleman judged by his clothes,
we only know he comes and goes.
Because he has to I suppose.
A visitor from long ago
Though why he comes we may not know.
Perhaps he comes to demonstrate
that once he was a fashion plate.
Maybe condemned for too much pride
a fatal flaw he could not hide.
He must display at half past three
until he learns humility
.18-Feb-09 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A touching spectre. Kind regards Ann