There, down the hall, an errant breeze
Propels the spirits from the fen,
The ghosts of long forgotten men
Now shake the pastel tapestries.
Their eyes aglow like furnaces
They pause there at the window sill,
They make no sound, their voices still,
Within the castle’s silences.
They find a little sleeping girl
Here, just before the dawn arise,
To marvel at her dreaming eyes,
Her cheeks of rose and polished pearl.
They gather round and hear her sigh,
Those spirits shake and tremble so,
Then back into the winter snow
They flee below an icy sky.
Author notes
With some apology to Oscar Wilde.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Spirits wander where they choose -- but a baby is so innocent they will not harm her.
Lady D
Adding your comment:
