Picnic With A Ghost

Picnic With A Ghost

Woke on a white blanket today, looking at the blue sky above me.

Turning I see;

A strange looking farmhouse at the bottom of a hill,
A fence of split logs,
Mountains were rising, like giants through a misty morning.

Two glasses of red grapes sitting on the blanket,

No one else around.

Plates made of paper filled with cherry pie,

No one else around.

Suddenly, from behind, I hear!
A quiet voice was singing words I could not understand. 

I turn to look,

No one is there!

Copyright © 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.