Death Among Love Poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson

She came down the stairs, gown all a flow,
rosy, sweet cheeks all aglow.
Lips red like cherry wine,
she was a beauty, a one of a kind..
She batted her eyes at all the young lads,
as their father's did stand, those really old cads.
Out stretched she her arms, gloved over the elbow were white,
a vision, a ghost taken on sight.
Not a word did she utter, as around the dance floor she was lead,
the handsome young lads knew not that she was dead.
The clock struck 2: 00 a.m. As she nodded good-bye,
leaving her suitors with nigh a dry eye.
Pulled she back her veil and ascended unto a cloud,
gasps could be heard from the ever watching crowd.