Whispered In My Ear, Upon My Death. Poem by Michael Gale

The boos! , were said in a hushed sound....
Very low, very eerily, a sounding, found.

Low, as in a shushed, whisper...
Very quiet, a barely, heard Lister.

What have we got her? ...
A ghost whisperer, that is her, for sure.

This ghost whisperer, has very big boo-bs! ...
Ms. Hewitt...
To a lot of guys, you really do it.

Excite them? ...
Exit them?

Like a far away ghost, in the distance....
So far away.

No more seen, another, day.