Her corpse hath risen from the dead

The grave’s no place to lie her head

She came to live with me instead


She slumbers in her morning lace

Then through the night, the grounds she’ll pace

So I wear garlic just in case


Her skin is rotting off, I swear

Can see the flakes throughout her hair

I hope she keeps it in her lair


Her decomposing-carcass-scent

Comes wafting down the hallway vent

I guess, at least, she’s paying rent


© All Rights Reserved Caroline Adele O’Brien


Finality and Twilight

In the last rays of swirling light

when the earth kisses the dusk,

will you dance among the graves

and sing a gentle song for Death?

When the earth kisses the dusk

where will your tired footsteps lead?

To a tombstone not yet etched?

Will you dance among the graves,

a ghostly apparition in your arms,

that bitter, closing waltz, macabre?

And sing a gentle song for Death,

laugh bravely as you pass his shadow.

He awaits only the sweet music’s end.

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart