Little girl lost (Children's poem)

The story of the little girl lost ( Children's poem)

"Close your eyes and count til ten" said aunt Emma
Jenny did as she was told, being an obedient little girl
At the count of ten her aunt was nowhere to be seen
She began to look for her frantically, her mind in a whirl

The trees is the forest suddenly looked so grim and scary
Their branches like huge arms trying to grab her on her flight
From the shadows bright eyes lured and strange sounds escaped
Looking around, in the far distance, she saw a little speck of light

As she approached, a humble shed became visible in between
the trees and bushes, well hidden from the outside world
Knocking on the door, fright took over..who would be there?
The door cracked and creaked as scary thoughts twirled

"Who might you be, young lass?" said the lady of the forest
"My name is Jenny, my aunt left me here alone" Jenny replied
"Why, my dear?"the lady asked in a sad voice, as her mouth fell ajar
"I guess she was tired of taking care of me after my parents died"

Upon these words the lady took little Jenny inside and cared for her
as if she was her own child. Fed her with fresh berries and rabbit stew
Bathed her and combed her hair every night in front of the log fire
as Jenny sang, because she was a gifted singer and her talent grew

One day Jenny went to the edge of the forest to look for raspberries
In the distance, on the horizon, perceived a castle of alluring grace
Her little basket fell to the ground, Jenny forgot all about her task
Into the open field she wandered as the sun lit her milk white face

The folks at the castle welcomed her and asked her about her qualities
"I am a singer"Jennie replied. Accepted she was, to amuse the queen
Like a true nightingale she sang every night, to please her new friends
From all across the county they came to listen to her voice so serene

Until one day Jenny looked in the mirror and saw her hair all tangled, dull
Stared at her neglected body, that had not been fed properly for ages
That night she sang her songs and truly looked at them:
A vacant stare she found and moral decay in all its stages

From the castle she ran, as tears blinded her eyes, long black hair waving
Reaching the forest in the morning, treading the dew covered ground
She searched for the humble shed as hours turned to days, to weeks
Until the end of her days Jenny roamed the forest, but her lady was never found

To this day her cries are heard, mingled with the howling winds of Rum Hill Forest and the story of little orphan Jenny is passed on from father to son.