The Moon

A little crown of the moon

Shall rise again soon

I watch it fade away

To return another day.

While the leaves will brown and die

Long will the moon hang high

in the sky

Like the green shall return by and by.

Little jasmine reaching towards

The window boards

Shaped like stars, the petals

Their meaning is truly the moon, the petals

My goddess watches over all

Her enchanted crystal ball

Shines mistily

Upon the darkest mystery.

My moon watches over all

In the shape of a ball

Shining mistily

Through darkest mystery.

The Veil

The Echoes of past
Send vibes into the silent night
Unheard through the day
Now amplify at night
For the one who have ears to hear them.

As I lie awake,
Unsleeping, unceasing
Through the witching hour

A time, nature has it,
Those who live - sleep
Those who are dead, and those who never lived
Rule the frozen time of midnight.

My eyes gaze
Into the veil’s haze
Between this world and the other

I watch unblinkingly, nervousness grows
As those beyond the veil move
Some pass through an opening in time and space
into my world and bedroom.

I feel the watchfulness eyes of another on me
I change my gaze to look into my own room
A petite figure bends o’er me.

I feel a breeze across my face
When the veil reclaims this residence
Of the other place,
Out of my world and into the other
Which is also my own
From there I came from
There I shall be again.

Once my earthen body perishes,
I will learn again
To peer through the veil
To watch the living, as I now watch the dead.

Creeping Down the Hallway

Creeping down the Hallway

Quiet as a mouse,

Girl sneaks away

In the old house.

Up and down the stairs

Shadows on the walls

Nobody cares

If the spirit falls.

When she was living

All that she knew

Was the mother called "Darling"

And a father that was new,

Daddy she called him,

though he was not

It didn't matter to him;

Of another she knew not.

Creeping Down the Library,

Quiet as a Mouse

The empty shelves are airy

In the little house.

Memories are Alive,

For the dead Girl

Every absent book Survive

In Deaths World.

Parents read a fairy book

To the little Girl

Before the fever Took

Away the quiet Girl

Now the house is Abandoned,

The books are Gone,

The gods Commanded

The Girl not live Long

Creeping in the House,

Without company of Mother

And her Spouse,

The Girl refuses another

Chance at Life,

Full of fun and Play.

In the Shell of her Old Life

She prefers to Stay.

Silent are the Rooms,

Long are the Days.

She wanders through the tooms

Remembering her lost Ways.

Creeping down the Hallway

Quiet as a Mouse

See her if you may,

In the abandoned House.

There a family was Broken,

Hearts were Shattered

There are Out-spoken

Who ask if it all Mattered;

To one little Girl

Whose Life was snuffed Out

The one quiet Girl

Who I spoke About

It was all she Knew

And it mattered Much,

It matters Still.

Those who believe in Such,

Know she shall Stay,

Until Judgment Day,

And Trumpets Play,

Then she shall go Away.

She shall go to Heaven

Where her family await,

She shall go by Raven,

To those who Dictate,

The ending for All,

In life or in Death,

No one shall Appall

The girl whom in Death,

Loved her home

Her family and her past,

At End of Time, she shall go Home

To rest at Last.

Memories

I can recall when I was four and five years old, before going to sleep at night I would watch the ghosts glide across the walls in my bedroom. I wasn't frightened, I had always be able to see them.
My brother slept across the hall from me and the way our beds were positioned we could see through our doors and into the other's room. Even though we could not see each other, we would watch the ghosts go from his room to mine and mine to his.
Perhaps it was simply because of our child-like innocents that we weren't afraid of them, or maybe something, or someone told us that there was nothing to fear from them, that I do not recall.



I can also remember when I was in trouble, sometimes I would look beyond the parent who was lecturing me and see a shield of light that encircled the lecturer's body. I was not sure whether what I was seeing was really there, or whether I was just tricking my self into believing that there was something there, because I knew even at that age that I had a wild imagination, and it would get away from me sometimes. I did not find out until recently that what I was seeing was an aura. The electrical bubble that surrounds every one's body.



It amuses me that the longer that I live the more I find out about things I experienced years ago, I guess that it's all just apart of life.