Constance La France | + Follow Poet |
Verse | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Gate

 
The gate to the old cemetery is rusty and old,
though once upon a time is was elegant and gilded;
ornate with filigree tracery ornamentation,
now, it is decaying, fragile, yet still beautiful to me.
I push to open it and the gate creaks, groans, moans;
and sighs an objection.

Stepping into the cemetery is like entering tranquility,
the green wraps around me like a warm cloak;
the majestic old trees are like a protecting canopy,
I am awed by all the hues of green I behold.
The birds are non stop, oh how divine are their songs;
many headstones are in ruin.

I begin to walk a worn path looking at the stones,
unable to read the inscriptions, I find that so sad;
yet, still some have flowers either planted or bought,
oh such a peaceful place it makes me want to weep.
I hope my resting place can be like this old cemetery;
full of green peace.

Then, I retrace my steps until I stand at the gate,
pushing to open it creaks and moans again;
and did I hear voices whispering, impossible I think,
I turn expecting to see someone standing there.
Pushing the gate, I hear the whispers, is it possible;
or is it impossible.

Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2023

Please Login to post a comment

Eve Roper Date: 6/24/2023 4:02:00 PM Great imagery and tranquil feeling. Great verse for the G contest. Blessing my dear Login to Reply Constance La France Date: 6/26/2023 8:25:00 AM Eve, thank you so much for the compliment, blessings !

Emile Pinet Date: 6/24/2023 11:22:00 AM Your words play within my heart and their sadness comes alive and fills me with overpowering emotions as you gently take me to your private place, where feelings can drift and pain seeks refuge. Very well written, my friend; Emile. Login to Reply Constance La France Date: 6/26/2023 8:26:00 AM Emile, thank you so much for the nice comment and compliment, your friend !