The Kirkyard
THE KIRKYARD
This day is as peaceful to me, as the day has, been so long
As I listen to the birds singing just for me in their last song
As autumn descends upon us, but; all the land is still green
Its warm showers, give the birds their last chance to preen
It is only times like this, to which I am, at my most content
Memories which I hold within this Kirkyard only to me lent
As within the Kirkyard, I get to see deaths glory, at its best
So I read all the gravestone epitaphs, of those now, at rest
I can hear all the idle chatter; of those, so unearthly ghosts
Saying to me you are welcome as today, we are your hosts
Peacefulness prevails here, as only a Kirkyard can ever give
As I enter another time frame, and to how folks used to live
Passed before my eyes images of long ago, to me displayed
That, then disappear into the walls of the Kirkyard in a haze
Ghostly figures, even stop to stare at me, in their eerie way
Watching me; as I am dressed in clothes of the modern day
Silence, not one word spoken in fear this moment so breaks
As every image captured within my mind, that in does takes
A sun sets with a sad loneliness, laden under its own weight
With each gravestone whispering until I reach the iron gates
This Kirkyard is now dampened with the coming of the night
Only to flourish, once more come tomorrow’s, early sunlight
I, a soul so tired and so weary as seen etched across my face
As I pass beneath the gate lamp it showers me with its grace
It won’t be long before they as carry me through these gates
Where I'll become a part of its wealth that just for me awaits
Indiana Shaw . . . -_-
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment