Gate
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Poetry/Personification/Gate
Copyright Protected, ID 08-1574-473-26
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written, August 26, 2023
For the International Contest, G or T Personification
Sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 09/01/2023
First Place
I am a gate in a cemetery and have been for many years,
when opening or closing I now creak, groan and moan;
I am real old and have seen lots of sorrow, tears and pain,
have witnessed heartbreak and have wanted to reach out.
Beyond me ancient trees sway in the gentle breeze,
and birds sing a sweet melody that floats in the air;
a symphony for the dead and wind wails like a violin,
down long winding, weaving roads of peace.
I love the sound of the rain falling that washes me,
the grass becomes emerald green and flowers bloom;
the sun is delightful so warm and comforting,
for an old creaking gate like me- I bask in its glory.
I open wide for those funerals of many cars,
it hurts my soul to see those sad faces staring ahead;
I watch until they are out of sight among the trees,
wish I could tell them I will protect their loved one.
Love when the silent white snow is falling, falling,
not many come in the cold of winter but some still do;
a girl came today with red roses and tears in her eyes,
she paused leaning on me then, walked on weeping.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2023
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