The woman,
pale faced,
with hanging hair,
Drifting through the atmosphere,
Her face an image of flowing tears,
And she rose affront the window pane.
Wailing, as if a banshee screaming in the rain.
Tap tap,scratch scratch, rustle, rustle.
He was no Heathcliffe,nor her his Cathy.
She called him with her heartfelt wails,
two spirits henceforth,
loving souls,
captured in the ethereal glow.
Some strange place,
they're stuck,neither here,
Neither there.
Hither and thither,
they're still hanging there.
Nightly wishing ,
Wanting each other for all eternity.
Floating in the midnight air,
Spirits seeking solitary solace in each others arms.
Once a year upon the moment midnight chimes.
They hold each other closely upon the tenth of June,
Dancing in the eye of summer's midnight moon.
When after the long night,
Daylight comes,
She sweeps them off their feet,
she kisses them gently, before she sends them back to sleep, again.
(c). Livvi