Squire

The following is a poem from a collection entitled Ghosts, which I hand bound and letterpress printed at the Wells College Book Arts Center in Aurora, New York. If you like this, you might want to check out Dog and Bridge.

Squire
And so these days I live with Paul,
though he doesn’t live with me.
His soul patrols inside the walls
that housed his family.

They abandoned him, one by one;
they sold the house and grounds,
and as I rent here all alone,
the Squire makes his rounds.

My first night here, I could not sleep,
I was so filled with fear
that from the dire darkness deep,
the Squire would appear!

The next morning, when I awoke,
I vowed that this must end,
and so with trembling voice I spoke
to make the ghost my friend.

That’s how I know his favorite song,
his favorite place to lurk,
and that if something’s going wrong,
it’s ’cause he’s a jerk.

That being said, Paul helps me out;
he spooks unwanted guests,
he lets me in when I’m locked out,
and now he lets me rest.

And so these days I live with Paul,
though he doesn’t live with me.
His soul patrols inside the walls
that housed his family.

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About CobraQuiz

A political writer.
This entry was posted in Book Art, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Squire

  1. Pingback: Dog | Chess Games with Gorillas

  2. Pingback: Bridge | Chess Games with Gorillas

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