The Ghostly Bride at Newton Lake Uk
They said she walked the water line
when fog had bruised the edge of time
a dress too white for sleep or soil
and eyes too wide for peace or toil
At Willow Park, the lake lies still
beneath the hush of Spindle Hill
no plaque, no stone, no mournful choir
just whispered breath and nettled briar
The story floats from mouth to ear
a bride who never left her year
some say she fell, some say he lied
some swear she walks where lilies died
Some saw her once, or so they claim
by light too thin to cast a name
she moved like thought, too swift to stare
then nothing held the heavy air
They speak of ropes or water’s grip
of vows that died on lover’s lips
but every version ends the same
a woman lost, a man unnamed
She does not moan, she does not cry
she waits where gulls refuse to fly
and if you pass near dusk or late
she might appear, or hesitate
No screams, no signs, no cries for grace
just stillness breathing in her place
and if she turns, don’t look too long
some things remember who’s done wrong
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Another great ghost poem and someone seeking answers or could it be revenge. Good job.
wow