THE WOMAN IN THE WHITE BLOUSE
On the edge of the forest a woman cries from the dead.
Alone in her sorrow she died in her bed.
And although you can't see it; there once was a house.
Now all that's left is a ghost in a blouse.
Villagers remembered the kindness that she gave;
But not one person will visit her grave.
THE SOUND OF A CROW
"I'll love you forever" is what he said;
I never imagined that he'd want me dead.
So here I lay, staining the ground.
And there he stands not making a sound.
I take my last breath to whisper "Why?"
But all I heard was a crow's cry.
Once upon a snowy day, Little Sally went to play.
She built a snowman by a tree, no one ever heard her scream.
Pure white snow turned a deep red, and there lay Sally cold and dead.
Peaceful and dark with a glowing pale moon light up the grassy hills and endless fields of purple foxgloves.
Twinkling stars shine through the tree's illuminating a dirt path before you.
A gentle breeze silently blows the flowers, grass, and tree's giving off the illusion of a graceful waltz with the wind.
The midnight songs of nocturnal birds fill the air as if inviting you to join in their singing.
For a moment, while breathing in the night air, you wish this dance could last forever.
But alas, all things have an end.
And as the winds slowly fade to a touching of your skin; the flowers, grass, and tree's become still once again.