The Ghost in the Room
I have set the table just as always,
Though my husband lies within the grave,
I can sense his ghost about the hallways,
Just a shadow, just a sorry knave.
I have made the dinner for our meeting,
Though he greets me now from other lands,
E’en for him my heart is ever beating,
Eager to enact his old commands.
I have built a fire with discretion;
I shall warm the ghost that tarries still!
Grieving in a cycle of obsession—
Thinking of the hands that made me thrill.
I have donned my dress of dainty fashion,
To impress my lover though he’s passed,
Aye, untill the fire dwindles ashen,
I will honour him unto the last.
I have sung our tune unto the gloaming,
Hoping that his ghost will find release,
Ever through the lonely garden roaming,
I will pray an eulogy for peace.
All my sorrow flickers with the candle,
Dancing for the one I knew and kept,
Even with the pacing of my sandal,
I am wet in tears so freely wept.
I have set the ornaments in neatness,
All arranged to please my precious beau,
Even though he’s gone to God in fleetness,
I will seek to give a rosy glow.
I am waiting at the chair so gracious,
Sit with me my darling and take heart!
All the love in me is endless spacious,
And from you, my dove, I’ll na’er depart.
