The Ghosts Around My Bed


The Ghosts Around My Bed


I sleep my sleep hapless,

aching with each vision

housed and saved.


I die my death silently,

leaning further into the dull air,

seeing twice my desires perish

in the stillness of this doldrum eve.


I love my love lonely,

planting stones in the sink,

washing dishes at midnight.


I am tired of hope and of prayer,

tonight, I am a white mouse

drowning in an ocean of snow. I am lassoed,

trapped in litterbox-rooms. My toenails

are cracked and somewhere soon children

will wake energetically and rise,




Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst



.First published in “Creek Side Writing Forum” November 2015

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“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.



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