#WritcoPoemChallenge

Lost in time,
weaved with memories,
It was but an old house,
hidden from view,
lived in by The Lady in Black
who made it her refuge.

Widowed young, aged early, wrinkled like a grandmother, yet only twenty seven.
I still remember sneaking
up to her door,
ringing the bell and running away.

She wasn't a mad woman,
a witch, a figure of fun
but a victim of tragedy
I know that now.