Rest In Peace
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I
Was a midwinter morn gravely put
to ground, and parish
leaves wet underfoot
led to the sermon ‘neath the mount
and to its dirges inside
the gates of Eden.
Where souls walk
in funeral marches
‘neath a gothic bell tower and arches
II
Beyond the spirit house altar light
I heard a lone voice
not of my own recite:
"The Lord is my shepherd…and I
will dwell in the house
of the Lord forever”.
My, what woe it is
so young to die
and have to say the long goodbye
III
There I was immobilised and weak
with no voice to sing
or words to speak,
and close as you were to touch
I could not hold you
or bring you back.
Unto mighty God
in eerie cavalcade
silently for that day to end I prayed
IV
The bells of Greyfriars in my head
tolled for the living
and tolled for the dead!
And with each loud toll bid farewell
for I knew there would
no resurrection be.
That cold ill wind
and sea and sky
does my own dark cast personify
V
Forgive me my duty of care defiled
and forgive the ways
of a miscreant child.
If I had my time and yours again
I’d adore you, mother,
and be a better son.
On your death bed
you spoke to me
and still your words echo mournfully
VI
Sorrowed is the deprivation of life,
grieved is a mother,
daughter, and wife!
In my own end rehearsal I muse
what becomes the soul
of redemption lost?
And what reprove
you leave behind -
it is a meditation that fills my mind
VII
O’ Death has pierced your defences,
snuffed the flame
and dulled my senses.
So it is and so it must be so soon
that we drink the bitter
milk of mortality.
So be it God saved
you and your fears
from this veil of sin and vale of tears
VIII
Buried under is but bone and lock
in the honeycomb hills
of Schnapper Rock.
But below my own auguries of death
lies a body of memory
destined to live.
Here I stand upon
your tomb of clay
but its flowers have long died away
Written : July 1992
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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