I'm passing hours, pondering ectoplasm,
Ethereal ghosts float over time's dark chasms,
I'm musing on ectoplasm, so pensive,
Would a shade of Jesus be God's missive?
Glimmer of wraiths, sight unseen,
Are they the long gone racing team?
Ectoplasm, I wonder at spirits and souls,
Angels appear in dreams, faces of old,
This side of midnight, not too far away,
Loved ones guiding us every day,
Life changing old souls, in a collective,
Maybe a shade of Jesus would be a missive,

I'm pondering ectoplasm, bemused and pensive.