The travelers wife

kind of like a story. A dream I had.

The box thin and laid in oak
Never a word the man had spoke.
His body in pieces inside the oak.

The woman weary and growing old
Never left her home, or so I've been told.
Day after day she pined away
Not knowing her husband had been slayed.

A box arrived one cold winter morn
The large package seeped a smell to warn.
Knock Knock and the front door
A man stood tall and thin, tired and back broken.

The smell soaked the small house
A smell so wicked could asphyxiate a mouse.
The woman sat and stare at the oak box in the floor
Large and thin and seeping a smell to warn.

Inside the oak box her husband lay
Cut into a dozen little pieces and rotting away.
And never a word the man had spoke
His body now rests inside the oak.


The woman could not bring herself to open the box
It laid in the floor rotting and seeping a smell to warn.

The lage thin box still lay on the floor
Seeping a smell to warn.
And beside that box that laid on the floor
The woman laid as well.

Seeping a smell to warn.