A caressing breeze from a ghostly lover
her dainty touch causes a shudder.
My body lies asleep in bed
while my head communes with the dead.
A dance with her fleeting scent on the wind.
I speak to murmurs in the dark,
lying wrapped in a blanket of shadows,
I see her green eyes gleam then disappear.
I long to summon this apparition
for she is not mere superstition.
Her warm skin I long to feel
brought to the world of the corporeal.
I plead “if I could I would…”
She whispers “you will”
carried on the wind like rings
clinking from an ancient bell.
(Again, she speaks)
” With magic you conjure this poetic stew
it drips wet on the page there are words a-brew
to open your mouth and sing me to life
should not cause much more strife.”
So, I ramble out a labyrinth of creation.
the air thickens with perspiration.
Black locks shake into being like a storm
ever gently a face begins to form.
Rapturous she steps into heart beating life
like blinding light spilling from cracked curtains.
Resembling a new actor on a stage,
she enters trembling and afraid.
But suddenly, she begins to fade.
I reach out to grab her hand.
Icy fingers slip through mine
like water in a drain, she’s lulled back in time.
“You must become a sorceress to exist
with fiery passion you will persist.
Believe in yourself to call this world home
for I cannot conjure you alone.”
With swirling gusts and sparks in the air
her own existence she invents, with fiendish flair.
Composing a creature with love’s care,
gleaming green eyes and black swirling hair.
A sorceress stands in rhapsody of rebirth
taking her first breath on this earth.
The power of belief between her mind and mine
is the only magic that will stand the test of time.
Eric Knowlson is an aspiring writer and poet hailing from Albuquerque, New Mexico. He has had poetry and fiction published in The Leonardo, a journal published by Central New Mexico Community College. He is currently finishing his BA in creative writing at the University of New Mexico.