He walked slowly by my house,
His face unshaven, expression cold,
It sent chills up my spine to look at him,
And then he turned and gazed at me with eyes so bold.
I wanted to run but I was frozen in place,
My fingers were tingly, my head spinning,
He came slowly up the walk, mouth grinning,
His face looked like a skull as he held up a case.
I could only stand and stare at him,
Wondering what would happen next,
Slowly he came up the steps, holding out his hand,
In those long fingers was a perfect, white rose-I thought I was hexed.
Then he spoke and I thought I would faint,
His voice was like music-melodic and sweet,
"I wanted you to have this was all that he said",
I never knew his name for he was back on the street.
I often wondered if I had seen an angel unaware.
Or if he had come in answer to a prayer,
One thing I know and this is for sure,
The rose that he gave me is still sitting here.