Norman Möschter

sunday night

It was the first day of december
on a sunday afternoon.
It was cold outside,
up in the sky a waning moon,
up on the hill a lonely tree top
with a broken branch or two.
It was the first day of december
and I was waiting for you.

As you were walking past the mansion
of the old Mrs. Valentine,
I saw you stop for just a moment,
that made you look so very fine.
It made me gasp for just that moment
and made me hold my breath a while.
As you were passing the old mansion,
you showed the world your pretty smile.

It echoed ghostly through the alleys
and found its way to me as well.
You didn't know that I was watching
and I knew I wouldn't tell.
this memory will be my secret
I keep it with me, hold it tight,
it echoes ghostly through the alleys
of this december sunday night.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Norman Möschter.
Published on e-Stories.org on 05/15/2015.

 

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