Moon Walk on Your Grave
A life begun in stardom,
now, ending up in shame.
Relentless media, cruel world,
who then is there to blame.
A sadness inside,
no tears on your face.
The pain all but over,
mass confusion erase.
In wonder we watch,
can a life be explained?
Can't surface your agony,
under facade you remained.
Let's focus on the talent,
musical joy that you gave.
In peace now I pray,
moon walk on your grave.
© Rene' Brady 2009
Copyright © Rene' Brady | Year Posted 2009
The Celtics called it "Samhain",
The day the Dead are seen.
The phases change their faces,
Like the moon on Halloween.
Copyright © Jessica Highstreet | Year Posted 2015
A gratitude feel
to end this life
Hold the flower
in your breath
and fear lonely tears.
I believe in you
a shell in the
sand left with nothing
but the sun blinding you.
Scorn white snow in
December have desire.
Another wants you.
Alone I wait on a bed
of nails desperately
wanting to surrender
this night instead
your heavens kept you
locked under this world
of the dying.
I can't keep your thorns
Beyond this life seeking
Knives carved in
the shape of your
Blood on the whiskey
black moon grave.
Copyright © Misty Lackey | Year Posted 2006
I see the old grave yard from my
window seal late at night and I
have noticed a woman walking in
the pale moon light.
I'm sure there is a story that her
presence could tell, but I can't read it
for her face is covered in a long, white
I watch her each and every night, in her
long, tattered dress, that's filled with
hollowed light, not a hair is out of place
and she moves so peacefully and full of
Her hands are long and slender, so petite
and in her hands she holds a bucket full of
flowers that seems to need a drink.
Down to the old, water well she goes, but
there has been no water there for several
years or more. Everyone who lives here,
this they all know.
She places the bucket and mysteriously the
water runs and all of a sudden the flowers
glow as if they were in the sun. She visits
each gravestone during the night and leaves
a single flower and gracefully moves on, in
I followed her late one night to find where she
laid herself to rest, long before daylight.
Her grave was barren and she too seemed alone
and my heart felt for her deeply as I read her
Here Rest Lilly who with her heart she was lead
to leave flowers for those without families and
resting alone in their earthly bed. May God bless
her in the after life and always bloom flowers over
her, even in the night.
I visit her now at least once a week and I place
fresh flowers at her feet; In hopes she will know
just how much I and all who rest here, appreciates
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014
The moon is low, so
I smile(d) at the
dark sky and the
stars that shine. I
speak to ones below.
I let my feet grab
the ground around
the rotten metal
pines. I move slow.
My drowning thoughts
catch wind of a fine
breeze, and are
brought to the
surface just in
time. Met by a dull
glow. And yet led
away to a spot
between two tall
trees. What was dark
is getting darker.
The cloud overhead
is a monstrosity, I
hope it don't
swallow me whole. My
hands, in fear, grab
whatever's near. And
the time begins to
tick quicker than I
possible. It was a
fallen stick of
pine, it was
something I could
yield if foes broke
Something i could
use in a panicked
feelings I felt soon
pass(ed) fast. So I
broke that pine
stick, and choose it
for shovel, not
sword. And I dig
myself a hole,
somewhere to sit my
(tired) spine. I
take a glance. The
moon pulls my inside
tides. Makes me
real, and even
what's not. So I
crawl(ed) inside my
head, 'cuz it's all
Copyright © Kris Lund | Year Posted 2014
The moonlight casts feint ghostly shadows
In the graveyard of All Hallows.
The clock strikes twelve high in the tower
And by the headstone stands a flower –
It’s Nature’s tribute and a sign :
These shades of John and Caroline
Who haunt this moonlit churchyard now,
Still faithful to their marriage vow,
Walk hand in hand eternally,
Forgotten by their family.
Copyright © Mike Jones | Year Posted 2014
ghostly figures dance
diaphanous dresses swirl
in the pale moonlight
it’s the graveyard shift
on the eve of Halloween
we’re in good spirits!
Sponsored by Laura Loo
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
A child is dead in the heart of men
a lonely grave sits unattended
who do such a thing I heard them say
to someone they had once befriended
who would have the child abandoned
i look to the gates and the fences unmended
i seek all these answers when i kneel to pray
but what's left to say
despite meaningful words I still dismay
this lonesome grave sees no flowers tended
when the baleful moon rises another day ended
but this grave is still unvisited
sadness and shame to this day
when all good men did nothing but pray
god should have stayed
but remorse is lost on those not here
i speak of course of men ruled by fear
for there is not just one grave unattended
there is more than one sin unmended
down beside this tomb i solemnly lay
when moon rests high and out goes day
this child called integrity is dead
doubt and vanity has taken its stead
this child called Right has been felled by Wrong
this grave is unseen and unknown
i lay here too, because the guilt is also my own
this grave at the hearts of all good men
what once we had we will never have again
Copyright © John Allen | Year Posted 2006