The Ghost Poem by Ross DixPeek

The Ghost

By
Ross Dix-Peek


A white sliver of light
Diaphanous and so bright
Heralds the arrival
Of a being spectral
A sad keening wail
Does then the world assail,
“My name be Ann, ”
“Not a child, but not yet woman”
Her awful story does then unfold
Of days long ago and things untold
Of her dear lover
And her vicious father
Of how one black night
She stole away by candlelight
‘gainst her fathers iron will,
Her fear second to love’s thrill
But, alas, unbeknownst to her
Lay there deep among the heather
An awful contraption so vile
Put there by her father, so evil
And the poor lass upon it did step
A lurking monster, a mantrap
A mean menace meant for her lover
But ‘stead did ensnare dear daughter
Its steel claws her flesh did rip asunder
As o’erhead the heavens did thunder
For so very long did poor Ann struggle
Until from its great vicious mouth did she spill
And then among the sweet heather crawled
Til upon her bedroom floor dying she lay sprawled
A delicate crimson angel
For whom heaven’s bells did mournful toll
Killed not by a base stranger
But by the wrath of a wicked father
And now does she, this unearthly spectre
Twixt two worlds forever waver
So much pain, borne of temporal anguish
And n’er to be extinguish’d
Her sorrowful lament to be heard for all time
As she for her dear beloved does forever pine!


(In tribute to Ann Dixie, who, in 1750, is said to have inadvertently stepped upon a mantrap set up by her father, Sir Wolston Dixie, which was meant for Ann's lover, the gardener's son, in order to deter him from seeing her, and it is believed that her Ghost now haunts “Bosworth Hall”, her home! May her restless soul one day find eternal peace!)