For the Ghost of Christmas Past

Write about a ghost of Christmas, he said. This was as close as I got, but I am perfectly happy with it...

The Promise

Send me your questions.
I will be your abbey,
full with apple trees,
rosemary, wattle fence
and quince.
Choose a plum.
I will answer your desire,
feed it to you sugared,
let my thumb touch
the cloisters
of your neck
and chin.

For Random Acts of Poetry, hosted at Dave's place (along with a giveaway) and Tweetspeak.