The Bride's Ghost I was seated on my bed, Writing stories in my head. When the whispy curtains fled, From the window near my bed. My cat jumped from my side, When a light made me wide-eyed. When the light seemed to have died, There before me stood a bride. Her skin was marshmallow white, A bouquet she held so tight, And she glowed with eerie light. Tonight, was her wedding night. Poppy petals plunged primly, With each step she took grimly. She stared at me so dimly, Though dead, she was dressed trimly. And she just stood there weeping, Her groom was somewhere sleeping. Her dress, my floor was sweeping, Through my room, she was creeping. Then I asked for her own name, Then she sighed a sigh, so tame, She simply said, with her eyes aflame, 'I am dead, I have no name.' Why I was not scared at all, I cannot seem to recall. She was so calm and so tall, With each step, petals would fall. Whispy wedding wear she wore, Long ago, must have had tore, Her off-white gown swept my floor, She made her way to my drawer. From my window, I saw sun. Which meant her visit was done, Hopeless like a small orphan, Her color seemed to soften. She waved a solemn farewell, So, this story, I could tell. From my room, she did dispel. I would miss that ghastly belle. I never knew her own name, Nor did I know why she came. It really was such a shame, Just a memory she became. The curtains danced in the light, My pillow I held so tight. In flooded the morning light, The bride was no where in sight. I got up to brush my hair, And in my mirror, who was there? The bride with her skin so fair, She looked at me with such care. Then a man came into sight, He wore a bowtie of white. And a suit, a little tight. She looked at him with delight. He was her very own groom, I can only just assume. A smile came from her gloom, Her bouquet began to bloom. If a ghost-bride visits you, Know that their story is true. She doesn't want to scare you, She just wants to befriend you. If you have a night like mine, A shiver won't go up your spine. She's not there to scream and whine, But to tell her story line.

The Year in a #poem January brings a new year to flight, as the big clock strikes exactly mid-night. Februrary holds candy and love all day, And not to forget, my special birthday. March the month famous for wearing green, it makes for a very enlightening scene. April is when you hide your colored eggs, run to find them, with all the strength in your legs. May is when summer begins to slightly pop out, Go out with friends, and just run about. June is a time for vacation and some fun, so go to the beach or have a run. July is when summer is in bright bloom, watching butterflies outside, from my room. August is when we go back to the books, pencils, pens, backpacks, markers, and year books. September is when fall begins its stride, we watch the leaves change all amazed and wideeyed. October is when we scour for treats, witches, ghosts, worlocks all roam the black streets. November is a time for thanksgiving, praying over the dinner, then eating. Decemeber, when the year comes to a close. Presents for you and for me wrapped in bows.

Theater Girl -You laugh at her now, the little theater girl. Just wait, soon, she'll be making her bow. -She walks home from choir, singing songs in her head. Practicing day and night, she wants her voice to inspire. -Walking through the halls, she's mocked, as the little theater girl, that's all. -Sitting in class, Dreaming. Dreaming of spotlight, as the minutes pass. -Just wait, She'll be up there. While you remember, when you were just a classmate.

Friends with A Ghost She swept in Cold and pale Gray as tin Whispy and frail She hushed my thoughts Blew in the wind Her hair tied in knots At me she grinned She never whispered a word She was clear Yet, her face was blurred Me, she did not fear That night I remember well That night of which I boast That night of which I barely tell The night I befriended a ghost She sang to me a story A story of grief A story of glory She had to go, for her time was brief She waved farewell As the wind took her away That beautiful, gastly belle It wasn't 'till then, I wished she would stay That was the night The night I remember most If I remember right That was the night I befriended a ghost