Patti Masterman

Wraith-Ghost - Poem by Patti Masterman

The place still murmurs
Her name down low,
A breathing space hangs
Like air; the wraith-ghost.

The shocking moon harmed,
With its piercing rays;
Her fair heart rebelled
Against such excess ways.

No recompense was found
In earth's delight; all gone,
All gone, the enraptured
Countenance sleeps on..

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 1, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 4, 2011

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