I sit and watch, in awe of you, <br />for you, you must be a creation of the Gods. <br />Your long, silken hair, <br />glistens in the silvery light of the moons night shadow, <br />And the light reflects off your flawless skin, <br />giving you an almost death like pallor. <br />Yet you are by no means to be compared to those departed <br />from this mortal coil, <br />For you my dear, are surely Aphrodite in mortal form, <br />such perfect beauty, I have ne’er seen. <br />Yet, you fail to notice me. Even though I call your name, <br />my words fall flat before your feet, <br />You look straight at me, but my gaze your eyes avert, <br />almost as though you see straight through it, <br />deep into the pit of my soul, <br />sensing my innermost thoughts and feelings. <br />But alas, I am wrong, and you are merely gazing at the moon, <br />as she paints her silver trail across the sky, <br />with the stars as her children, <br />dancing across the deep blue night. <br />And now I fade to a whisper, <br />a mere ghost, lost in the night forever.<br /><br />Steve Armstrong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ghost-9/
