Ghosts

Let us be ghosts together, Love of mine, Love of mine.
Let us circle through the aether after nine, after nine;
With our clanking chains and pendants
Let us frighten our descendants.
Let us slam their cellar doors and spill their wine,
Spill their wine;
Let us pinch their tender feet and spill their wine.

Let us be ghosts together, Best of all, Best of all.
Let us whisper in the heather and the hall, and the hall,
Till the doormen of the Dawning
Send us churchwards, gently yawning.
And the single grave that greets us shall be small,
Shall be small;
And the grave that waits our coming shall be small.

Elizabeth Brazeal

If you have any comments on this poem, Elizabeth Brazeal  would be pleased to hear them.