Ghost

With fleeting, mocking images she should not keep.
Each night he ghoulishly waits for his invisible hold,
Sneering at her unpretentious heart of gold.
He unveils lovely, sweet memories of days long ago,
Then across her body an icy wind begins to blow.
He holds her captive with a voice in her ear,
But she wakes up smiling, now she has no fear.
Share This Poem
TweetThis Poems Story
Brenda McGrath grew up in Georgia, the daughter of a minister. She started her career as a high school English teacher and holds a BA in English and Spanish. She lived in New Hampshire for twenty-five years where she was a business owner and realtor. She now resides in Valdosta, Georgia, her hometown. Recently, she went through a divorce, and is now on the other side with the sun shining. That was the inspiration for "Ghost."