Do not wonder from this path at night,
Nor ask a stranger, your candle to light.
The forest around us, comes alive, you see,
And will gobble you up, among the trees.
Be sure that your eyes are not playing tricks,
Stay on the path as the brush grows thick.
Things live here, that are born in bad dreams,
And will chill your blood, like ice covered streams.
Do not stop for a quick, curious stare,
Ignore the movement you know you saw there.
Leave alone the rustling, single small branch,
Now hurry on home to your safe, warm ranch.
Do not stray from your path so dear,
Creatures of long ago live and hunt around here.
Stay aware for that tug on the back of your cape,
And resist the urge to take curiosity’s bait.
Run home, before the moon replaces the sun,
Lock the door tight as the shivers begin to run.
Do not peak out your window, to see what is there,
Do not be so quick, to take curiosity’s dare.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: KAY LYNN RICE
Do not use without written permission of author