As the shadows lengthen across Blue Bell Hill
a ghost drifts - a shard of refracted light at the road's edge
that merges into a hedgerow.
Rising in the steam
from an under-road drain.
Trapped in eternal catastrophe.
You could mistake her for the strobe
of headlights through fencing posts,
if it weren't for the sudden chill...
There are no kind motorists tonight -
no-one to stop for the hitch hiker
and drive her safely home.
They all pass clean through her.
No traces of how she met her end
on this lonely stretch of road:
A fatal aberration of concentration.
A step into the road.
A beautiful blood-red sunset
that momentarily blinded a driver.
Blue metal that lifted her like a baby.
SHOCK WAVE..................................
A skull shattered.
Suspended time as rainbows struck asphalt
that heaved to her last breath.
Then her brain could no longer think -
the bone was too far in.
She died before her time,
a masterpiece unfinished.
The Blue Bell Hill ghost
still tries to reach home.
She knows her mother will be devastated
because there was no time for goodbyes',
nor to soften the blow
of shocking bereavement
with comforting words -
and because premature death is disrespectful
to the womb that nurtured her.
I MUST GET HOME...
A sensitive psychic
slows his car to pick her up.
He drives her all the way home.
He pulls up at the gate.
She opens the door and steps out...
into the lengthening shadows
of Blue Bell Hill.
a ghost drifts - a shard of refracted light at the road's edge
that merges into a hedgerow.
Rising in the steam
from an under-road drain.
Trapped in eternal catastrophe.
You could mistake her for the strobe
of headlights through fencing posts,
if it weren't for the sudden chill...
There are no kind motorists tonight -
no-one to stop for the hitch hiker
and drive her safely home.
They all pass clean through her.
No traces of how she met her end
on this lonely stretch of road:
A fatal aberration of concentration.
A step into the road.
A beautiful blood-red sunset
that momentarily blinded a driver.
Blue metal that lifted her like a baby.
SHOCK WAVE..................................
A skull shattered.
Suspended time as rainbows struck asphalt
that heaved to her last breath.
Then her brain could no longer think -
the bone was too far in.
She died before her time,
a masterpiece unfinished.
The Blue Bell Hill ghost
still tries to reach home.
She knows her mother will be devastated
because there was no time for goodbyes',
nor to soften the blow
of shocking bereavement
with comforting words -
and because premature death is disrespectful
to the womb that nurtured her.
I MUST GET HOME...
A sensitive psychic
slows his car to pick her up.
He drives her all the way home.
He pulls up at the gate.
She opens the door and steps out...
into the lengthening shadows
of Blue Bell Hill.
and because premature death is disrespectful
ReplyDeleteto the womb that nurtured her.
A telling thought in a hauntingly (forgive the pun!) beautiful poem. It gripped me in many ways and on several levels. Beautiful work.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Dave.
DeleteThere is so much speculation as to the identity of this frequently seen ghost, but this is how I perceive her story.
I have checked online, and have found a wealth of information on this subject, but none as yet that exactly matches my experience.
Nonetheless, I find her plight deeply moving...
Haunting and sad but it touched my heart greatly!
ReplyDeleteYou write with great emotion and very beautifully! x
Many many thanks, Margie. You are so kind.
DeleteThank you, too, for following me. I have been trying to follow you, but as yet have not been accepted. I have tried signing in with two different accounts, but these have failed.
I will keep trying! xxx
Chilling! Wonderfully versed, a masterpiece unfinished, she will always
ReplyDeleteroam, a ghost in the shadows of everyones dreams :)
Oh thank you Rose!
DeleteIt is so sad a tale, and has truly touched my heart.
If ever there were a Spirit in need of release, then it is this one. She has reached out to so many...xxx
Brutal!
ReplyDeleteThe lines Dave sighted stood out to me as well, excellent verse.
This piece is haunting to me because for the last three days I've had pieces of verse/words floating across my drafts that include images you've written on: ghost, rise, hitchhiking, home. Maybe the same sensitive psychic is about.
I think you may be right, Gnome...so many people seem to be feeling things they wouldn't normally be feeling of late.
DeletePerhaps we are experiencing a collective shift in consciousness...or maybe the lost are reaching out for help to move on?
Please write...everything you feel and imagine seems important at the moment.
Thank you so much.:)
oh my gosh this is shocking and surprisingly heart-warning how you manage that in one story is amazing
ReplyDeleteMany thanks Lorraine...although I cannot really take the credit for this.
DeleteI have simply reproduced, as accurately as I can, what I sensed at Blue Bell Hill.
The mystery is...that there have been so many sightings over the years, yet each witness appears to have a slightly different experience.
It is all very odd...xx
my pleasure I'm commenting again so you are aware that i've deleted all my blogs in favour of just one, then I'm not limited by a name
DeleteMany thanks for letting me know, Lorraine.
DeleteI will be visiting in a moment...:)
This is a spooky and yet so beautiful poem. I loved the ending, the motorist picking her up (did h/she know?) and dropping her off in Blue Bell Hill. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Thank you, so glad you liked this!
ReplyDeleteApparently he didn't initially know. He doesn't usually pick up hitch hikers, but as it was pouring with rain that night he took pity on her.
It wasn't until he stopped and went to the rear door to let her out that he found no-one there, just a pool of water on the seat!
All very peculiar...:/