It was decomposed,

With an acrid smell.

Death lingers in the air,

The village church sounds its knell.

In life there was but beauty,

And laughter all the time.

She knew the smell of roses,

For she was just as sublime.

Many thought of her as an angel,

For her modesty and goodness.

She shared it with friend or foe,

Her loving arms  waiting to caress.

But someone done her in,

And left her to decay.

The town went into mourning,

You can smell roses there to this day.