A Tea Party of Ghosts
by Sophia Bueskens-Wong, Ballarat Grammar
Finalist, Years 11 – 12, written poetry
I see her by the window pane,
A little girl without a name.
Her eyes are dark like river Styx;
As dark as burned out candle wicks.
Her face as pale as fresh laid snow,
She casts an eerie, moonlit glow.
And in her hand, she holds a cup;
In the cold air, steaming up.
A cup of pomegranate tea,
A tribute to Persephone.
I see him by the old oak tree,
His haunting eyes stare into me.
His mouth a perfect Cupid’s bow,
Lamenting his forgotten home.
The stars cast light upon his face,
Distorted in this eerie place.
And in his hand, he holds a cup;
In the cold air, steaming up.
A cup of salty smelling tea,
A tribute to great Neptune’s sea.
I see her in the daisy patch,
The barn door rattles at its latch.
Her eyes shine with Loki’s mischief,
Wind unfolds for her; its mistress.
Her wounded chest, as they tell her,
Sealed her place in great Valhalla.
And in her hand, she holds a cup;
In the cold air, steaming up.
A cup of mead, not simple tea
A tribute to the Valkyries.
Want to read more poems? Explore the other Years 11 – 12 finalists.