Monday, August 31, 2015

Ghosts By Marion For Mag 283

                                   For Mag 283

Ghosts
By Marion

White is not a color 
Peonies do not grow here
This vase is ostentatious
I will not shed a tear---

His absence is a presence
as real as my red robe
His spirit whispers secrets
that only we two know---

14 comments:

Gemma Wiseman said...

A touch of bitter beauty filters through these reflective thoughts. Lovely.

Jonathan Chant said...

Lovely - painting and poem.

Marion said...

Thank you, Gemma...what a beautiful name you have. I appreciate you stopping by. xo

Jonathan, thank you. I appreciate you! xo

Wander said...

Even though


I whisper to myself
As if
In this empty room
Someone else might
Overhear
Would that you were here
Maybe then
This pain wouldn't
Tear at me so
But you are not
Even though
I wish it with all of me
Even though
I have need of you
These flowers are of cold comfort
Offering slim solace
In their silence

Chris

Thank you for your kind words, and thank you for sharing this piece which sparked another verse from me :-)

Maria Mainero said...

perfectly succinct story poem.

Deepa said...

woow, its beautiful

Ankita said...

whoa! that is too beautiful, somber yet lovely

Kelly said...

This is beautiful, Marion.

Berowne said...

Excellent response to the prompt.

Sandra said...

sweet ...beautiful words!

rosey pinkerton said...

Beautiful secrets I'm sure. Delightful.

Chrisy said...

Love...

Serena said...

That is so hauntingly beautiful.
xo

erin said...

marion, the (somewhat) dissociation between the first two lines, maybe three, four lines! is brilliant to me. and then the bringing to earth in the tangible folds of the robe. i think this is quite a good poem. there is great strength in it, the strength reflecting in equal measure her pain.))