The Haunting of Harcourt

 

You lie there
 Under silk sheets,
Quiet like the dead
 As you sleep
One small curl
Upon your brow
Just within reach as
 My shadow will allow

Slowly I walk
 Toward your form
As soft as
 The approaching storm
Intent upon the
 Kiss I seek
Your very presence
Leaving me weak

As I lean to
Caress your hand
I see the
Shiny golden band
The tears do fall
From my eyes
As was before death
No one hears the cries