How Brumleys’ ghost still appears to me.
Fine featured, fit and flirty,
Fun and famously floating by,
A wisp of the eloquent magic,
That was once a twinkle
of
my little eye.
Taken to task, thinking happily,
A thirst for the taught temptation,
Holding you in my arms again,
Was all I’d dreamed of,
my
constant fascination.
Absolute adoration of adolescent aims,
Ankle to abdomen, abdomen to face,
Has kept this passion alive in me,
Since these innocent times,
always
in our secret place.
A ghost gave me giggles,
The girl, gorgeous, gregarious, golden,
And all these years alone without,
Bring me a timeless version
of
love I’d beholden.
Kissed so kindly, keen to keep her,
Chased and cherished we’re kicking,
Taking the time to understand,
And now the distant clock
keeps
ever ticking.
Rambling and rolling right round,
Rivers and roads reaching to heaven,
I now understand of her ghost,
I’ve been in love with her,
since
I was eleven….
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