For the Daily Post prompt: ghost
Just to prove practice is worth it, another ghazal. Better, I don’t know, but certainly easier.
Among the roses, in the place we loved the most,
I thought I saw behind heat shimmer’s veil, a ghost.
Running through the blooms I caught but a fleeting glimpse,
The sunlight through the leaves, a face so pale, a ghost.
The memories of you and I, sweet summer scents,
I lift my face to seek you there, inhale a ghost.
Beneath the falling petals side by side we sat,
Those lost times fading into image frail, a ghost.
Illusions haunt me still though you will not return,
Through quiet tears the roses’ scent is stale, a ghost.