The Ghost of Amherst

Today, I decided to post another poem.  Although The Ghost of Amherst appeared in the summer \ fall edition of UCP’s Life Without Limits, I like the poem so much that I decided to post it.  For those who have already read it, I apologize.  As I said before, I feel affinity towards Emily Dickinson because her mind was a whirl with thoughts and words: such as mine.  The old poem reminds me if we are not careful, we all create mental prisons for ourselves; ones in which we cannot break free.  Without further ado, here’s the Ghost of Amherst.

The Ghost of Amherst

The ghost of Amherst she will always be—

Who walks the shores and swims the seas.

There is a ghost of Amherst, you know.

When all is dark and only moonlight glows—

She prowls her haunts and wishes she could be free,

But a slave to destiny she always will be—

For the universe ignores her plea.

The ghost of Amherst she will always be—

Who walks the shores and swims the seas.

She wrings her hands in despair,

Knowing death is always there—

An invisible prison that

Deprives her of the life she once knew.

The ghost of Amherst she will always be—

Who walks the shores and swims the seas.

Her white dress flows and casts a shadow

across the land she once loved—only a

Faint memory to her now.

She pledges a solemn vow to break her unending

Chain of unhappiness.

The ghost of Amherst she will always be—

Who walks the shores and swims the seas.

She visits the grave she knows so well,

where she reads her own name

And grieves eternally.

The ghost of Amherst she will always be—

Who walks the shores and swims the seas.