The Contessa
The candlelight flickers against the dark wall
with shadows that play up and down in the hall.
A delicate glow that is dancing around,
in silence she walks in her beautiful gown.
A candlestick carried in her pale, white hand
she silently glides through the hallways so grand.
The house remains empty except her alone,
and now for her wickedness she must atone.
The candlelight always is glowing it’s told,
although no one lives there, the stories unfold
of how she walks nightly, her sins to confess,
in silence she walks in her beautiful dress.
Copyright by Anita Lewis Longino
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