Sorrowful Poetry: Ghosts of Fragrance

I found this sweet, sad, and sorrowful poem and altered it for a dedication to the ghosts of the last woman I cared for that still haunt me. I am mostly fine, but there are times.

Hair of alabaster, skin of the purest ivory
You intoxicated me with the smell of the high seas
Tempting me with adventures most sinister
Your coy smile making my core flutter
I recall the nights we whispered our devotion to each other

You ran from this life, openly showing disdain for waiting
I knew in my soul it was me you were running from
You fled in terror long ago to experience your adventures
I still hear of your exploits from time to time and smile
I stand along the cliffs and hear the ocean’s roar

As the ghosts of your fragrance and echoes of your laughter haunts me forever

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