Patti Masterman - Wraith-Ghost

The place still murmurs
Her name down low,
A breathing space hangs
Like air; the wraith-ghost.

The shocking moon harmed,
With its piercing rays;
Her fair heart rebelled
Against such excess ways.

No recompense was found
In earth's delight; all gone,
All gone, the enraptured
Countenance sleeps on..

Patti Masterman

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wraith-ghost/