Graveyard Poetry
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Words drowned in tears is where my pen will fall,
I tend to dwell in wistful sides of life;
the dead, the lost, the gone, pale ghost that call-
My thoughts in dreams are sharp edged like a knife,
And is my broken, fragile spirit weak?
I chant a song to keep the ghosts away.
Why must they shadow me with hands that seek?
Can they not stay in tombs in their decay?
About dark death I tend to write my words!
Sometimes, I pen my words of nature sweet,
in cemeteries green with trees- sing birds,
and deep and dark my sad words fall- then meet.
--------------- October 1, 2016 ---------------
Iambic Pentameter
For the contest, A Poem in Iambic Pentameter
sponsor, Janice Carnedy
Second Place
Rhyming checked on RhymeZone.Com
Syllables checked on HowManySyllables.Com
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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