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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #722467
Love's lament when beauty becomes a ghost of itself
GHOST OF LOVE


I was once a blooming rose.
I once had a sweet fragrance.
Somewhat intoxicating
to you was my mere presence.

How to be with me awhile,
you kept thinking nights and days;
planning for a rendezvous
in a million lovely ways.

For you, verily, I was
your own sweet angel of love.
Adoring my eyes and face
was, for you, never enough.

Now I am no longer young,
no longer that lovely face.
No longer you wish to hold
me in eternal embrace.

I don’t mind this change in you.
I wish only I could spy
faintest remnant of the spark
of love that was in your eye.

I know this would never be.
All your love I have now lost.
No longer beauty angel,
Of myself, I am a ghost.

* Written 7 syllables per line.

M C Gupta
19 July 2003

© Copyright 2003 Dr M C Gupta (mcgupta44 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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