A Stream of Thought

When told to follow the stream of consciousness and write the lines of the poem as and when instructed, without being given much time for thought, this is what I came up with; or rather, my mind did.

In the starry sky hung the blue moon,
She looked up and sighed,
Tossed her hair and was in a swoon,
By the pool silent tears she cried.

He was gone forever and buried,
The ripples distorted her face,
In the dark, creatures scurried,
Memories; it was the place.

The graves stood tall; grey,
The breeze lilting and swaying,
A fine night in May,
A donkey in the distance braying.

A hand shot out of the ground,
And held her ankle tight,
She screamed, a heart-wrenching sound,
And she'd disappeared into the night.

A body soon followed the hand,
Mottled and falling apart,
All over shifted the sand,
And then fell over the cart.
Zombie Apocalypse!