
White Lady of Kinsale
The moon had risen in the black sky
Giving an ethereal luminescence
Silver shimmering ripples on the lake
Magical in its quivering quintessence
The place of myths and legends
Mystery suspended in the cool night air
A white vision stands at water’s edge
A commanding presence with her long hair
The lady of the lake a mourning bride
of a soldier murdered by his men
Distraught she threw herself to her death
Forever trapped to roam over and again
Wandering the walls of the Charles Fort
A familiar sight of agonized plight
Grief-stricken for her dead groom
She walks the darkened streets at night
Her trapped spirit forever nocturnal
Appearing to those who can see
The lady of the lake is still mourning
Her loss forever burned in history
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
OctPoWriMo – A Poem a Day – October #7
Photo by Luke Marshall on Unsplash
Prompted by a Tragic Irish Ghost Story The White Lady of Kinsale
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