Sister Ghosts
Sister ghosts upon the green,
Ethereal, and scarcely seen,
Aside the lake’s reflective sheen,
With shadows so pristine.
The regimented trees beyond,
The sun descending, setting fond,
In silver evanescence donned,
Reflections on the pond.
The pillars set in stony grey,
The ghosts upon their eerie way,
Adrift above the clammy clay,
In such a mad dismay.
We are the ghosts of sisters dead!
Deceased and to the aethers fled!
From out the rush of earthly dread!
The convalescent’s bed.
The palsy took us, every one,
E’en as our life was just begun,
Not even aged to twenty one,
A countenance to stun!
This is the manor house we knew,
The gardens that we wandered through,
Below the day’s resplendent blue,
The sun’s beatific hue.
Tis on and on we wander now!
With misery upon the brow,
Bewilderment the days endow,
Forsaken anyhow.
Bethesda and Rosanna fair,
Ragusa with her silky hair,
Penelope in laughing flair,
With such a joy to share.
Delivered now beyond the vale,
In ghostly shape and stricken pale,
With desolation to bewail,
In netherworlds to sail.
The gardens for a sullen keep,
A wilderness in which to weep,
Abandonment prodigious deep,
A bed in which to sleep.
The birds to sing our eulogy,
A melancholic symphony,
A winsome form of artistry,
Dejected as we be.
The grasses for eternal rest,
A dolefulness upon the chest,
By sadnesses so well impressed,
A destiny unguessed…
