sarahyshoop

Little Old Lady

The trees grew tall and strong

Her heart grew old and weak

The flowers bloomed of bright red and pink

Her hair faded in curls of white

Her voice grew softer during the night

The wind blew steady as the owl sang his song

Her last night was tonight

She couldn’t hold on for long

As she listened to the owl sing his song

Her eyes closed slowly

Her hands felt heavy

She felt she was ready

She breathed her last breathe

The owl flew to her bed

With his smile

The witch was finally dead