Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Séance of One

They all showed up, to my surprise,
I’d hoped they might, amid my cries.
To raise the dead, disturb their sleep,
A cause to rise, to prowl, to creep.

A séance of one, left room to spare,
 I hoped they’d come and take a chair.
To pay a visit, to stop and chat,
To drop on by, and chew the fat.

The room grew cold, the rafters shook,
I shut my eyes, afraid to look.
A flash of light, a deafening roar,
And all at once, I hit the floor.

Then there they were, a sittin’ there,
As big as life, without a care.
My mom and dad, and sister too,
Oh what a feat, oh what a coup!
They said don’t fear, death’s not the end,
For time’s not straight, but tends to bend.
We’ll see you on the other side,
So until then, enjoy the ride.

I later awoke, slumped in a chair,
The family gone, nobody there.
I'll live to keep their ethereal creed,
I’ll enjoy the ride, oh yes indeed.  

--Ken Ferguson--
Artista di Parole

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