a single red rose
lies on your grave
black raven caws
pewter skies
drip tears on me
church bell tolls
Terror Beneath the Bruised Twilight
Beneath the bruised twilight, forsaken graves gape wide,
Splintered crosses leer like phantoms that bide.
Brambles coil and clutch with thorns sharp as dread,
Weeds mutter curses for the restless and dead.
A skeletal steeple claws the plague-stricken sky,
Hollow winds shriek through windows where lost souls still cry.
Rusty gates slam behind, locking shadows within,
Power lines moan warnings of unpardonable sin.
Ghastly shapes swirl, faces twisted with pain,
Grasping cold gravestones, chanting dark refrain.
Silence crushes breath, as if the world mourns its doom,
In this eldritch graveyard, pure terror finds room.
This story may or may not be true
My sister liked visiting graveyards at night,
I was invited but said count me out,
she laughed when I begged please take this light,
lanterns are handy when ghosts are about!
When she arrived at the sad cemetary,
(timed it quite right for the late midnight hour)
the wind it did woo a wierd commentary,
but nothing on earth could make sister cower.
She stepped on a stone and then heard it moan,
go away human, just leave me alone!
She never again asked to visit a graveyard at night,
and will always refuse to turn off the light!
It was a somber cloudy day, sadness weighed heavy on us all. The family gathered to pay final respects. Gregorian chant filled the air as we looked up to heaven. We were burying a good man. He had been a role model, a loving husband and a caring father.
the finality
painfully sinking in
goodbyes surreal
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on May 26, 2025 for CEMETERY contest sponsored by CONSTANCE LA FRANCE - RANKED 2ND
Halloween in 16 lines of Rhyme 10-16-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Halloween Graveyard
Light intones the creeping darkness
Fallen leaves scrape broken paths
Distant footsteps, heard in semi-darkness,
Wail and weep on incensed footpaths.
Growing shadows blot out twilight
Darkness descends -a deathly pall –
Stone angels watch the hallowed night
Tangled weeds grab like black rainfall.
An outstretched palm hovers o’re the spine
Trembling hands brush at unseen breath
Above their graves haunted ghosts align
Prickly terror screams in cold sweats.
Shouts through chaos in moaning winds
From crypts of tears – spirits unleashed
Souls trapped in macabre whirlwinds
Midnight breaks the spell – souls released.
The roundest, orangest, nicest pumpkin I find
In a farmer's field ten miles from town.
Uncarved and free from ghoul's design
with unsaid prayers, I set my pumpkin down.
I set it down in grass in front of a stone.
A granite stone turned in perfect square.
Light's changing now to a dimmer tone.
My tears fall from my empty eyes that stare.
They stare as time passes quickly before my eyes.
The rotting fruit has caved on all four sides.
Hence, heraldic symbol dies
To become slime above where love resides.
Globe spatters, sending forth white pearly seeds
with matted threads. Could this be human brain?
Lunging forth, I trip on rocks and weeds.
My legs move, but I can make no gain.
I look to see what caused my foot to trip.
I see a granite stone much like the same
as my Love's, it ends with letters RIP.
and, 'bove is' -Wife of- and - Oh No - my name.
cemetery not cementary…
although, i see how you might think of this
chiseled rocks, carefully crafted crypts
no. this is the place where we come to bury
where we visit all we miss
i remember seeing you – again, my heart rips
rigor mortis came and went
boxed, lowered, blessed, interred
unnoticed tears flowed from my reddened eyes
i stood among the thinning crowd – all energy spent
strangers’ consolations were endured
inwardly, i shout at death whom i despise
alone, i walk through the cemetery
grass has grown, but i feel no bliss
our relationship has changed – i carry cups
filled with blessings you gave – smelling your bounty
i plant shrubs to say – just one more kiss
then, as i leave the gate, a smile erupts
Silent Stones
Granite and Marble
Testement to our Mortality
Sun gazes brightly, blinded by sonder
Upon memorials to our fatality
Venue for brooding over Death’s mischief
While equipped with handkerchief…
Tears misty eyes shall unlock
Already by heavy heart unbolted
Over Death’s wasting clock
And angering daring of the Lord’s Promoted!
A masonry of slabs and The marbled
For impassioned messages, not garbled,
On her tombstones displaying Christ’s cross
That should curb the cries over a loss
But also Gardens of Angelic Roses
That the Door of Agony intermittently closes.
In Africa, far from the widespread
And in her folktales rarely read.
In The Western World, vastly stationed
And in her novels as much mentioned.
Dreary noises vomits in the wee hours
Which ears at close range seldom misheard:
A wondrous assertion of eerie powers
And Whistled Evil by Ghostly Bird.
A world scarier and insecure at midnights,
As the Dead socialize and commercialize,
No longer under pressure to tighten their lips;
Their life- terminating fights have for the withdrawn lights
And hapless visiting humans paralyze
With their deadening whips.
Cemetery continues to entertain bones
From tents and thrones.
step... stop... wait... step... stop...
slow, achingly slow, we---Sh!
… frozen deer... staring
shivering
on a cold
november morning
we stood there
posing for
a family portrait
hearts heavy
saying our
goodbyes
as we laid
your soul
to rest
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Beneath rugged oak tree's shade, and the voice of nature's mirth;
Evergreen wreaths tied with red velvet bows lean back in repose,
Adorn thousands of soldier's headstones laid to rest upon the lap of earth.
A rhythmic verse passing tribute etched on each reflect among lives of those
Honored and mourn upon the lawn in the long-drawn endless rows.
12/26/2019
Poetry Contest: Writing Prompt- English Quintain Imagery
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
The rhyme scheme of an English Quintain is a/b/a/b/b. No meter required.
The black ravens’ peer deep into the darkness;
Bracing upon cold marble and granite stone,
Beneath the ghostly moon's shadows in starkness.
Gray as gray, the ravens’ mock upon its groan
Absence of light and nostalgic clandestine.
Bleak night and nothing more wreathe the granite shrine.
9/28/2019
Photo #2
Poetry Contest: Make IT Six
Sponsored by: Joseph May
'Tis of time fragments its seconds strike three,
One enters through the world's door till strikes four,
Locked in Twilight's zone, witch brew set it free,
Chaos and Havoc, the demons twins be,
Guardians of Hell's Gate, watch o'er worlds door,
'Tis of time fragments its seconds strike three,
Loosen from their chains, spawned diehards conceive,
A commotion from potion, vile and gore,
Locked in Twilight's zone, witch brew set it free,
Pain and suffering, lifetime guarantee,
The one inflicts affliction, things of lore,
'Tis of time fragments its seconds strike three,
Web has spun, evil done, 'twas a wild spree,
Victims are vast, time much too fast needs more,
Locked in Twilight's zone, witch brew set it free,
Time ran its course, in its wake, much debris,
'Tis business, end good, in hour before four,
'Tis of time fragments its seconds strike three,
Locked in Twilight's zone, witch brew set it free.
2019 September 19
i come to visit
on any occasion
when my heart
gets the call
fall winter spring
summer most of all
her favorite
i like to string
the daisies
and hang the garland
sweetly around
her tombstone
AP: 2nd place 2020
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