I was exploring my uncle's house the day this thing happened to me. But I had better explain. My parents were on a trip to Europe for a few weeks and I was left behind. They asked me if I wouldn't mind staying with Uncle Robert for two weeks while they went to London for a visit to my mother's friend and her husband. I said I wouldn't mind and off they went. Now, Uncle Robert's house is as creepy as the day is long, and big enough to house the whole city of Little Rock, Arkansas. But Uncle Robert was nice enough, and didn't mind my snooping.

It has come again

That special time of year

When all your friends and family

Have come to spread some cheer

All is very busy

With never a boring moment

All are in high spirits

Preparing for the feast

Mother is in the kitchen

Baking lots of goodies

The smell of gingerbread and cocoa

Whirl throughout the house

The boys trudge out to play

Rapped up like Eskimos

They'll have a snowball fight

And glide upon the ice

Then we hear a knock

Over a thousand years ago

In a decayed, rusty shop

A man hunched over a peice of glass

He was careful not to drop

This glass, it had significance

A purprose for it's making

So the experienced hands continued on

The glass was for the taking

People stared at it's brilliance

Sitting upon a dusty shelf

Almost a hypnotizing magic glow

Stood out from everything else

Years passsed, things happened

The man had passed away

The shop was torn down

As the sun goes down
I hear the sound
Of breezes rustling through the cherry trees.
Calm blue of dusk
White-grey of shadowed blossoms
Pale pink of horizon.
A perfect night for lovers
A perfect night for dreamers
For those who long for what lies past the stars
For those who think wistfully of the dangerous depths of the sea.

 **Note to self: no more writing creepy stories while alone in a strange house late at night. Even if it does turn out to give good inspiration.** 

Down the whinding road,

In the town square,

Salemen live, oh there everywhere!

Shops of trinkets odd,

Bobs, and bits of every shape,

Shoes, clothes, flowers and duck-tape.

But wait, over in the corner there,

Built poorily, old and rundown,

The roof bent the structure not sound.

Oh over there, is a strange shop,

Indeed, there be none like this one,

Gray and shabby outside, inside treasures by the ton!

"Step inside, I dare you!"

That be every little boys dare,

Some of you may know that title is from a Chris Tomlin song. I was listening to it recently and it got me thinking, how can we keep from singing? When a Savior so perfect would die on the cross for our sins, so that we could live with Him forever. And loved us so much that He would go through the level of pain that He did.

{Spring Theme! ... and I have no idea what I'll be posting after this. I really need to finish all the ideas I have...}

Note: Well here we are, something a little different for you all! I normally write poetry, but I do have a few short stories lying around and I thought I'd post one. This is based off of some real events. I really did get the necklace described in this piece from my Godmother for college graduation. Also, the necklace does mean to me what I describe in the story.