The Reaper

For my little niece.

Death #1

Bright little children

Come out to play

I cut their flowers

And take them away.

Death #2

I took a walk with Death one day,

He took a walk to stay.

He made a motion to smiling flower faces

And asked which one could he take,

“The ugliest one,” said I,

“Take the weeds that grow so high.”

He said naught but walked through the field

And picked the fairest flower it could yield.

Death #3

Death is quick.

Death is kind.

Death is fickle.

Death is blind.