Lovers Graveyard

Melt into existence Coverings the distance Between the past and present Where space so black Is sucking hole's beneath the fabric The spinning cycle on a washing machine Can never clean or drown out the scent Of banished lovers who cloud the night With semaphores and silken glove's Signaling to car alarms and shepherds horns Come and claim the higher ground On which to place the sacred stones Of fields of Athernry and lovers lost graveyards