Bryan Deakin

Scottish Poet / Blogger / Community Activist

Strolling

Strolling through the forest,
Thoughts linger in my mind,
The mist appears all around,
Not a sole in sight.

A figure ahead,
White and pale,
Walks in the horizon,
In her glowing gown.

Her face is red,
Teeth are white.
I want to run,
But its the dark of night.

I stay a statue,
She hovers nearer,
I cannot move,
Heart pounding.

The glowing gown drapes to the ground,
A grin I see,
In this darkest night.
Her eyes are red,
Full of tears.

She walks on past,
I call are you alright,
Time I turn,
She is out of site.

I continue my stroll,
In the forest,
At the dead of night,
Mist all around.

Boy did I get a fright.

© 2011-2016

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