Tag: mystery



The melodious sound
of instruments
broke the still night air
A soft rhythmic beat
appealing and seducing 
daring to share
Like a moth to a flame
it lured and cajoled
with musical ingenuity
Lacking self-control
It was easy to be tempted
Succumbing to promiscuity
Heart racing
and adrenalin flowing
Caution thrown to the wind
The course uncharted
and on this whim
all hopes were pinned
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
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Word Prompts
Melodious - WotD
Ingenuity - RDP
Chart - FOWC

Photo - Stephan Keller, Pixabay

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Wall of Secrets

Wall of Secrets

A place for a clandestine encounter
or secrets hidden within its periphery
This wall could tell stories
of trysts, surreptitious meetings
Perhaps even some bewitchery
Traces of lichen and moss
Covering the ancient rocks
Underneath, romantic messages
left by star crossed lovers whose
footsteps are now covered with Phlox
The old gate bearing initials
Carved with high expectations
Yet thwarting courtship
blocking fate, destiny
and undying declarations
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Sue Vincent's Thursday Write/Photo



The low hum of the air conditioner
was the only sound to be heard
He reclined on the bed, thoughts swirling
but the lines were blurred
Life had been full of possibilities
until that fateful night
He had loved her deeply
but she had been full of spite
His history needing an overwrite
He had run to clear his head
Events had escalated quickly
He feared he had left her dead
Bringing her a gift of flowers
She had thrown them in his face
Accusing him of infidelity
Her words out of place
He would never do such a thing
She had been ill advised
She screamed and ranted
And continued to chastise
His head exploding
from her volcanic eruption
He had pushed her away
Needing an abruption
Awkwardly she fell to the floor
In his fear, he had ran from there
Now In the stillness, a voice on a megaphone
“Come out with your hands in the air”
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

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Photo by Albert Dera on Unsplash

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Often, she would come 
to the frozen pond
A place of solace
Finding peace, courtesy of
Nature’s magic wand
She occasionally saw the pair
on the ice arm in arm
Sometimes they would dance
Holding each other
Skating with such charm
Sitting by the frosted tree
Music filtered through the air
Where could that be coming from?
Looking closer at the couple
She studied them with a stare
Their clothes were from
a time in history
The music was a waltz
She had never noticed before
It was now a mystery
Who were these people
that appeared from time to time?
Was she the only one
who could see them?
Why were her feelings sublime?
Nothing seemed to add up
There was no trace of a car
She called to them
but they did not answer
Maybe she was too far
Realizing they were ghosts
as they faded from sight
Her mind  playing tricks again
in the chilled afternoon air
As she stared into the white

Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

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She walked in the shadows
Moving up and down 
In, out and through
the throngs of passers by
Wearing her blue gown
Searching day after day
for that one
She would know him
When she saw him
This time he would not run
Adamant she would find him
Her method was all she knew
Repeat, repeat, all things repeat
This was no chore to her
Even if she had a slanted view
Her power was in determination
Finding her slayer was paramount
All she could hope for
was a sighting
For closure this was tantamount
To look him in the eye
For his deadly sins, be culpable
That retribution be hers
and he would know
She was indestructible 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Sue Vincent's Thursday Photo Prompt - Imgination - Write/Photo

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Lady of the Lake – Poem of the Month – November 2018

Lady of the Lake

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 into history


Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©


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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There are tears in my throat
Drowning my voice
Unable to surface
It has no other choice

I am emotionally catatonic
As I walk in a trance
Tripping over my own feet
Unable to advance

I steady myself
Before moving any farther
Desperately wanting to recall
What prompted my departure

Taking a giant step backwards
Trying to process events
I choke on the thoughts
Making no sense

How did I arrive here
Alone and mentally spent
Searching for answers
In a spiral of descent

I do not welcome
This confusing mystery
Another burden to carry
Adding to an unseen injury

Wandering aimlessly
With no compass to guide
I have become a lost soul
Left by the wayside

Christine Bolton

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