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GHOST LANGUAGE

Singed edges, ancient pages, 
faded vellum paled by time,
the ever growing patina of our dreams, 
there written in the minds of every man and woman, 
this secret book of words, not ever spoken, 
allowed to be quite silent, still, unbroken, 
what gems, what horrors, 
what is hidden from out eyes, a wealth of thoughts 
that always come to nought, 
and yet their meanings have been useful now and then, 
when needed by the host; 
perhaps becomes the language of our ghosts.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Oslo and Flatdal, Norway., NOR

Favorite Poets: Too daunting this.

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Comments

Nordic cloud

Nordic cloud

12 years 6 months ago

Thank you sueb, its all a

Thank you sueb, its all a great big mystery isn't it, and food for poetry,
we thrive on the wonder of life, at least I do.
Thank you, Ann.