Through a sunny day
and grassy lanes,
clover, daisies and flying things.

Sweet scents and silence
and suns delights,
days dusk transforms to
Sweeter nights.

She’d brush her hair without a mirror,
walked home alone without a fear.
Then one day come when two paths meet,
a lurking stranger with looks deceit.

She was stabbed to death that sunny day,
her painful shrieks rang deaths delay.
Morning sunrise of diamond dews,
there lie a victim of fates abused.

White marble hand, torn plaid dress,
open mouth scream, silent distress.
For many months she lay unfound,
her fragile frame absorbed by ground.

And in this spot grass never grows,
except for ‘of course’ a single crimson
Wild rose. . .

*This is inspired by a murder that happened near my house when I was a kid.