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Red Roses

Contributed by softerware on Wednesday, 20th January 2021 @ 02:30:11 PM in AEST
Topic: AmericanTragedy

Out on her lawn late one night
the moon lit a shadow afloat like a kite.
Over the garden, over the wall, over the hedge,
nothing stopped it at all.

Silently crossing the freshly mown grass.
Up to his window and right through the glass.
It seated itself at the stead of his bed
This thing that came calling.
This thing that was dead.
He turned in his sleep as it filled him with dread.
Too late awakened was he to have fled.
Silent his scream as he opened his eyes.
ďA nightmare, a dream,Ē but none heard his lies.

The morning would find a trail that led
out to the garden; where lay a lone head.
Days were spent needlessly searching the grounds
for the body that no one has ever yet found.

Over the hedge, beyond the wall
in the mistresses garden you may hear a call.
If you should walk with the flowers tonight,
be certain to close the gate very tight.

For deep in the earth where grows a sweet rose,
lies a foolish young man who once had supposed
to marry a widow and send her away.
to inheirit her wealth and not struggle a day.
A tomb for his head, in fear some have said,
of the rath of a husband back from the dead.
And a gardener envied for roses that shed,
by tourists who canít seem to grow them as red.

Copyright © softerware ... [ 2021-01-20 14:30:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)


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