Ghost Rider

On windy moor in teeming rain
I saw a vision clear and plain
I hushed my breath nor called, not I to
The Ghost Rider passing by.
From whence he came I do not know
On stoney ground covered in snow
Myself laid still, I shall not show to
To the Ghost Rider passing by
When all went quiet, still and sound
I raised myself up from the mound
Of horses hoof for they did pound of
The Ghost Rider passing by.
T'was eerie night, the day befell
When all went dark yet, not was well
I undercover in a thickened dell
When the Ghost Rider passed me by.
I went and followed footfalls light
Became of what? this visions plight
To ride alone one must be brave
On dawn return toward the grave
Of the Ghost Rider who passed by.

by Irina Whitford

Other poems of WHITFORD (17)

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