Acrostic Story

With Bated Breath Walking up the winding path inside the cemetery where my family is buried; the path leads me through the oldest parts, and I recall haunted stories of childhood. Breathless, I walk faster and whisper a prayer; another turn, then another, oh am I lost! Turning around in circles- I see through trees the sun; even the hushed angels sigh for me as quickly I walk down a path familiar- finding my family tomb. Butterflies dance and twirl, and reaching branches of willows drape the stone; everything is still and quiet, even though birds sing, oh a red rose in my hand is now wilted dead; the words engraved I now read with bated breath, I remember happy blissful memories and sadly, too soon deaths. ___________________________ August 21, 2019 Poetry/Acrostic/With Bated Breath Copyright Protected ID, 19-1199-040-02 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted to FGI Blog Series 6 - Acrostic Brian Strand Podium Place 1