I'd like to see the poet's corner of Westminster Abbey someday. I wonder if the experience would exceed merely sight, transcending into other senses. It seems more a place to feel.

The Ghost of Westminster Gabby

Along the corridors and rooms

Of London's Westminster Abbey

Fortune to experience

The ghost of Westminster Gabby

Oh, she's not dead

Her light lives on

And the warmth of her presence

Still lingers on

I see the glow of her warmth

I feel it crossing my arm

No, she is not alone

No, she's not the only one

But though they all may be stars

To us, she is the only sun

And she outshines them,

She outshines them, every one

No, they don't hide

No, they don't leave

But, as the light of day

She is all that I can see

And not until

She makes her leave

The moon and multifarious stars

Unchallenged now, for all to see

Witness the ghost of Gabby

And you'll forever long

To bask in the light, her source, the sun

Just one brush with the ghost of Gabby

And you'll see in the dark

'Cause she illuminates the room

Oh, she's out there

But she's not only mine

And her ghost is all

That I'll ever find

And the closest I will ever feel

Ever feel to the ghost of Gabby

Is to wander the corridors and rooms

Of London's Westminster Abbey

To the Poet's Corner

Where she reaches in

As hues of pink

Her arms as rays

The warming hug

Of sunny days

I wander there

To soak it in

Then long for her

Until again