FEW (1875 - 1948 / Scotland)

Ghosts

I walk in a garden of roses,
'Twixt lawn and shaven lawn,
And I think of the wild free spaces,
And the rose of a breathless dawn.

Gentle and sweet beside me
Goes the wife that bears my name,
But I dream of a wild-eyed woman
And the sea that hides her shame.

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