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Title: The Lovers
Author: John Presland [
More Titles by Presland]
There are ghosts we walk with, lady of mine,
Arm in arm, and side by side,
Pallid ghosts, though the sun may shine,
Ghosts that are cold in the warmth of day,
And neither of us may fend them away,
But step by step they go with us, stride by stride.
There are doors in your heart that are shut to me,
And behind them dwellers I cannot know;
And my soul has windows that open wide
On a ghostly, memoried country-side,
That--lady of mine--you never will see,
Where your voice will never be heard, nor your footsteps go.
So we walk together, hand in hand,
While dark eyes peer at us, pale forms come,
And speak in my ear--or call your name
With a voice I hear not, for praise or blame,
And you walk alone with that ghostly band,
While I go by the side of you, pitying, powerless, dumb.
[The end]
John Presland's poem: Lovers
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