Freaky-Friday: Ghost in the Greenhouse.

Revision-Robbie would have held this one up till midnight if I hadn’t wrested it from her clutches. I apologize for tardiness, but here’s my offering for this week’s Freaky-Friday luncheon:

GHOST IN THE GREENHOUSE
by Robbie Lewis Lowe

We took a drive and had our say.
I made him stop and let me out.
He sped off as we traded shouts.
The road was long, the sky turned gray.

I wandered long, one car sped by.
At last I saw a place I might
Find shelter from the coming night,
A place to keep me warm and dry.

I trudged through weedy field and stream
To find the house quite mute and dark,
But by it was a glassed-in park;
Inside, a soft-lit gard’ner’s dream.

I curled up on a couch ‘midst shy
Whiffs of jasmine vines unbound.
Soon I dreamed he came and found
Me unresponsive to his cry.

His sobs aroused me — up I leapt,
But all my shouts and poundings passed
As soft as moth wings on the glass:
He knelt in weeds out where I’d crept.

Out there, a sheriff wondered, “What
Would make her pass that bright abode
To fall out here where none have strode
Since Green Jim’s burial in this lot?”

Beside the sheriff rose my man
Still sobbing, gazing down upon
A form revealed now by the dawn:
My own frame through which no life ran!

With terror’s urgency I screeched,
“That can’t be me!  Look, here I am!”
Just then, from nothing stood a man,
Who said to me, “Dear girl, no speech

“From us will living ears tune to.
Where now we hover once was my
Beloved green-house where often I
Took refuge when love proved untrue.

“And now, though razed by lightning’s blast,
My green-house rose to welcome you,
Poor girl, your body black and blue,
Mangled by the car that passed.”

“No!” I screamed, and fled my host.
No exit, though, was to be found.
Outside, the living heard no sound
But sighs, like breezes, from my ghost!

###################

Comments welcome, my little Freaky-Friday Friends.