Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Poetry By: Luvving

A ghost latches on to tell you who killed her.

Submitted:Jun 7, 2012    Reads: 18    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


Ghostly Talk

I heard a whisper, lowly call

I saw no one, but words were all

I know not who, or why they came

But felt a presence, now and then

A calm voice lured me to the hill

Where daisies grew, no daffodils

I sat me down upon the grass

To draw on my thoughts, of who it was.

A silhouette I then did see

A woman in grey, so unhappy

She spoke a little clearer now

Barefooted, she hovered over ground

She told me of her family

Her best friend, and why she came to me

She hoped I'd hear her when she spoke

To give a message to those she loved

Her family lived a mile away

Her remains were buried under bales of hay

She left money, jewellery, under the old wine cellar

Finally she said, the person who disposed of her was

The trusted gardener!

By Luvving


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.