A Haunting World

I cherish living in my world-
An exclusive universe
Where no one is allowed entry;
No wife, friends or acquaintances.
It’s a place where music is breathed;
Where the ghosts of literary
Giants still haunt the ambiance;
A serene inner sanctum where
Ideas and inspiration
Grow like precious fruit on a tree
Never given the chance to rot;
Their harvest serving only me.
A place where these influences
Create something memorable.

by Albert Ahearn

Comments (1)

I love the last stanza, Aisha... it wraps-up the poem brilliantly. Sad, but very well done! Brian