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
Tag: verse
A Final Kiss
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
The Writer
He thought he’d write About dragons And maybe a knight. Then he thought of A night to remember But that was Used for every Titanic
If You Will Have Me (A Romance)
She called him in From the far reaches Of the orchard Where leaves turned pale gold In the cooling fall air. ••• He never answered
Headless
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
Early Morning Reveries
An uncomfortable chill Of the cold morning Brings in October Yet, is more than Somewhat comforting. ~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman
Vampire Maman 