steven cooke
Ghosts of War
Within the fog of did you
see?
An old woman, made up to
the nines
Can be seen in the corner
of the non-believers eye
Purse in hand and a glass
of wine
Waiting for a lover who
never comes
Just shadows on the wall
Whispering names, through
Spiders silk, the
inheritors
Of this forgotten,
debutants ball
While Portraits glare at
vacant laughter
An echoed waltz swirls
The embrace of loves decay,
Images now jailed within
the Crystal shards
Of a fallen chandelier
A tear of Woman wears
mourning face well,
This vigil Mask hiding mortality
lost
Now broken and marking
time,
Love lies lost in the
barbed wire of war
Fallen stars to shine no
more
Their Remembrance merging
into darkness
Behind a cloudless unforgiving
sky
Alone is the corpse in
cratered field
Covered by poppies blood
Walked on by ghosts to
come
Another Whispered soul is roaming
The guns have left their
post
And Peace is just an
illusion
For yet another Flanders
ghost
This cruel winter’s night
The withered rose has lost
its fragrance
The champagne has all gone
flat
And love calls without an
answer
For silence is the memory
And it is we
Who walk hand in hand
With our ghosts of War?
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