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May 25
The hallway echoed sounds of lonesome tears,
while heavy rain pounded the roof;
A mysterious voice--soft and solemn--spoke,
through the wide open windows of truth.

Among the hushed sense of breathless fear,
an apparition whirled into view;
Unsettled yet somehow peaceful,.
its presence prompted a hopeful clue.

A misty haze gathered 'round the wraith,
its voice became halting and slow;
The crying then ceased as did the rain,
leaving a ghost with nowhere to go.

Its earthly mission having been resolved,
a stairway appeared straight ahead;
Floating down steps to the mirrored wall,
reflecting a vision so genuinely sad.

Suddenly those sounds of anguished tears,
could be heard again from the hall;
Our ghost was perplexed about this event,
for which it had previously answered the call.

With its supernatural power and strength,
and a wave of gossamer charm;
The tears were stilled and the house grew light,
no longer a cause for alarm.

This tale is one of quaint mystery,
of a world filled with hurt and sorrow;
But our magical friend put up a fight;
then vanished into the new fallen snow.
I wrote this a long time ago when first attempting to create worthy visions, to make myself comfortable with the art of writing poetry. It's kind of bland, but one has to start somewhere ! Enjoy (I hope).   Frances
Written by
Frances E McClelland  Hamilton, NJ
(Hamilton, NJ)   
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