She sits by the window with a pen and diary.
I'm watching her glance behind, but she sees me not.
Hinged, wooden doors have been left ajar, waiting for me.
The floorboards creak under my feet, she hears me not.
She has swept away the cobwebs from the abandoned rooms of the old house
in the hopeful expectation of my return, but it can't happen that way.
I'm here, Love, not in my own life -- in another time -- in all time.
Join me in the music of the night.
The Phantom Muse
YouTube video: http://tinyurl.com/Daphnes-Web
???????? who is this ???????
ReplyDeleteDaphne, it's Arthur...your ghost.
ReplyDeleteHow much I delight in watching the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention by my kiss.
Seeing goosebumps running along your lovely arms makes me know you're pleased I am here.
I won't be staying long, not tonight.
XXX
Why does the ghost hang around?
ReplyDeleteHi,
DeletePlease watch the "Phantom Muse" and you will see why he doesn't leave.
He draws out a Power from inside me that I never knew I had.
I never want him to leave my side.
~D~
I listened and watched and forgot to breathe. The singing is beyond words and the phantom muse is the stuff of dreams.
ReplyDeleteAhhh...your words are poetic, I can hear the whisper of your voice and see the gentle breeze lifting a few locks of your beautiful hair.
DeleteYou could not see and hear the beauty of my muse without it also being inside you. You can sing to him too, in many, many ways...
~D~
is that the ghost?
ReplyDeleteHi,
DeleteThe orb on the lower ceiling is the ghost.
~D~