Poetically Correct...

by GLORIA GRACE
BSE, MA (U.P.), Ph.D.

 


THE GHOST OF JOHN IVERACH


Under the rays of the noon sun, he used to sit on his rickety chair
John was a neighbour full of smiles and gossips
He greeted everyone and engaged them in small chats
Nobody guessed that he had metastasied cancer.


His sense of humour and political analysis evoked bits of wit
When he drove his old Falcon, he would invite old ladies for a ride
Neighbours used to give him meals that were home made
Daily news, local or
international were his topics and favourites.


He was a battler for some years patiently enduring and not complaining
Everyday, he would check on the elderly if anyone was missing
He offered his barbecue range for anyone celebrating
His popularity was amazing.


When my flower boxes needed steadying
He offered his wires and did the permanent tying
When my Philippine wall tapestries were ready for decorating
He, being a tall guy, offered his service in installing.


When Charice won the musical competition
Immediately he came to my door with the information
He was up in the clouds for his admiration
His respect for Filipino achievement was his form of elocution.


Not long after, his ailment got worse, and he was in agony
He was confined at the Royal North Shore Hospital
We visited him and cheered him, but he did not want sympathy
He knew that his days were numbered, 30 in total.


He had only a sister for a family
She informed us when John passed away
The night he died, his ghost came, we felt his familiarity
As a proof, my doormat was turned upside down by the door way.


Gigi, the Indonesian girl, felt a cold tap on her shoulder
Mavis, an Aussie friend of his, found a yellow rose on her car
Shirley, another friend of John’s saw her pot plant shifted
So we offered prayers for his soul to be peacefully rested.

 

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