Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Ghosts
Ghosts
There are no ghosts,
Her confident boast,
Whispered with fluttering breath
And on that pretext,
She sent him a text,
Twenty years after her death.
Ghosts
There are no ghosts,
Her confident boast,
Whispered with fluttering breath
And on that pretext,
She sent him a text,
Twenty years after her death.
Hobbo's Poems 
this is a very clever piece of flash fiction 🙂
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Thank you😂
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Gosh. I feel this is a movie or a book. Or just the blurb/trailer thereof. I wonder who will play the ghost woman? Or will it actually be her mischievous daughter who sent the text??? Doooo dooo dooo
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🤣 There could be the ghost of a spooky script here!
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Absowootly.
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Years ago, I wrote a collection of poems to my dad in the form of daily journal entries. He’d passed many years before.
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What a lovely idea. 💕
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How lovely Misky 🙂
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Oooh, very fun. I can only wonder what was said. Did he shit the bed?
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🤣 Quite possibly!
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