Mother Music & Death Silence

There was once a great mother, who lived in a house.

Her children were small, ‘round the size of a mouse.

She wore a small necklace, all round little pearls.
And her sleeves were done up, in cream colored curls.

Her hair, black as night, was short to her shoulders.
But back to her children, before they grow older.

There were two, rather small.
One a boy, one a girl, both not very tall.

With hair blond as sun beams.
They were quite the team.

Both leaping and spinning, quite high it would seem.
Just tumbling and turning, along each black beam.

But Death Silence creeps in through the door.
Underneath the sill, through little cracks in the floor.