POETRY, GHOSTS, AND VAMPIRES He told me that he loved The warm breeze on his face The smell of pine trees And water on granite

POETRY, GHOSTS, AND VAMPIRES He told me that he loved The warm breeze on his face The smell of pine trees And water on granite
Lightly we tread in the woods Along a muddy path Fog blanketing the lake I hold my skirt To keep the hem dry You take
Full moon Brings on a party In half lit oak woods Possums and owls Look for the same Shadows With different purpose. Full moon Brings
In the dark night They listened For the cry of the wolf But more The cracks of twigs The rustle of leaves The turn of
Zombie Passion I look into your eye sockets, Right into your brain And know you love me Even if Your heart is on your sleeve
Headless He stood in front of me his neck a stump without a head. In his hand was a note on expensive stationary scrawled in