Beneath the Moss and Vines
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the wind is w i l d- birds are chirping,
my long raven hair is SWIRLING all about;
I walk slowly to your tombs w e e p i n g,
this path has been my journey a "thousand" times;
and I STAND above the lovely bones of my dear beloved,
I touch each e n g r a v e d name beneath the moss and vines;
and I want to fall to my knees and with my hands D I G up all the lovely bones. . .
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June 10, 2016
Poetry/Rhyme/beneath the moss and vines
Copyright Protected, ID 16-799-301-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Titles of Novels
sponsor, nette onclaud
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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