What is a ghost?
A thought – a song – a sigh
Upon the wings of time
That echoes down the passages
Where you and I first met
And others who pass by
Will wonder why they pause and smile
Unknowing that the peace they feel
Was born in our content.
Tribute to a Distilled Spirit
(thoughts on poetry and prose)
A novel, like an evening with a friend
Accompanied by tankards of good beer
Allows us to develop themes and share
Love, laughter, jealousy or fear
And contemplate a carefully crafted end.
A glass of wine, a connoisseur’s delight
Will be remembered for bouquet and taste
And for the dinner that it graced
Never a drop allowed to go to waste,
A story shorter than a summer’s night.
But for a poem I would choose
A glass of single malt to be my muse
The Book Room
You need to take a break? Then come with me
Together we will climb the winding stair
The way is dark but very soon you’ll see
You can escape depression and despair.
My room is small but everywhere you look
Your eye alights on friends both old and new
Each with a tale to tell caught in a book
You’ll find these friends unchanging, always true
The chairs are ancient, comfortable and deep
The lamps are placed to throw a pool of light
Here you may read and think or even sleep
Until you are restored and all is right.
My books are friends supplying all I lack
So when I lend you one please give it back.