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Wednesday, November 1, 2017
The Ghost Arises
The ghost arises from the grave.
He wants to be a body brave.
But only a spirit is he now,
Separated from his earthly frau.
She walks by day and sleeps by night.
He floats okay and walks very light.
Her body moves about above.
His body has moved enough.
The ghost walks on a plain,
where time goes on but his remains.
Between one life and between the next,
where spirit and life are not mixed,
wishing there he's not to stay,
for he and his frau cannot lay.
Lo! he has fortune soon to come,
after the Samhain setting sun.
When shining brightly are moonrays,
the edges of worlds do briefly graze.
The lonely ghost, if haste is made,
may defy the entombing spade.
Quickly he spots a young gent confess
to the lake his most precious breath.
A spotting horseman is on the shore.
He negates the soon impending horror.
Dragged ashore but lifeless still,
the ghost's resuscitation is a saving pill.
Across the plain the ghost has traveled.
A skinny dipper's peril unraveled.
Newly bodied the ghost may streak.
To his frauline he again may speak.
The lost swimmer's soul now roams,
To bath again in rushing foams.
A Hero! A hero, the horseman is he.
A medal awarded the horseman to be.
The separated lovers by death,
will by life be one again.
Though he knows she doesn't know,
that he is he who she now loves so.
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