I heard a whisper, lowly call
I saw no one, but words were all
I know not who, or why they came
But felt a presence, now and then
A calm voice lured me to the hill
Where daisies grew, no daffodils
I sat me down upon the grass
To draw on my thoughts, of who it was.
A silhouette I then did see
A woman in grey, so unhappy
She spoke a little clearer now
Barefooted, she hovered over ground
She told me of her family
Her best friend, and why she came to me
She hoped I’d hear her when she spoke
To give a message to those she loved
Her family lived a mile away
Her remains were buried under bales of hay
She left money, jewellery, under the old wine cellar
Finally she said, the person who disposed of her was
The trusted gardener!
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