Short Churchyard Poems

Short Churchyard Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Churchyard by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Churchyard by length and keyword.


Premium Member The Bad Hobbit

a nun once had a hare-raising habit
chasing around the churchyard rabbits
she'd grab their tails of cotton
twisting until off they popped 
and was never cured of the habit
fun
Form: Limerick


Premium Member Autumn Twinkles

crystal flakes twinkle through autumn's bare canopy... leaves sparkling in the dark yellow the tree's hues painting attic of churchyard... like fall's innocence ............... Skat's Autumn Haiku 10/23/2015
Form: Haiku

Underlay

Cold fingers of mist draw ground ghosts
over churchyard graves.

It's a pretty scene and the underlay
of shallow bones
adds a musky flavone of finality
that seeps
from the green mounds.

A Pitbull on a leash
tugs at a pale hand
eager to dig and chew,

as if he knew.

Space In This Crowded Churchyard

Shall find some space upon this yard
It is just a matter of days, 
The inmates here will give no room
For they are stubborn in their ways.

Fit in here is a task I must
Though I have not the faintest clue, 
Of how on earth could that be done
But do know I am stubborn too.
        ***********

Premium Member Let It Flow

Rivulets of crimson blood Ooze tantalisingly from the gaping wound on her neck He drinks hungrily, savouring every salty drop Dracula wraps his black cape around his shoulders Fleeing in the moonlight to his crypt in the churchyard. 07~25~16 Crimson Contest Sponsored by Royal Ninja


Faithful In My Fashion (August 2, 1937, Lewisham Cemetery, Se London)

I dreamed I saw the grave of Ernest Dowson
Bleakly set
In some forgotten churchyard corner,
Lone and wet.

The spectral London fog descended cold on 
Sentry grass
Where seldom any visitors or pilgrims
Deign to pass.

And in my reverie I bravely scattered
Roses there, 
And felt a frail and wispy “Thank you”
Warm the air.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member A Walk, Through St Catherine's Churchyard, Ludham Thursday 18th March 2021

Crystal dewdrop jewels pendent from leafless Hawthorne
over snowdrop pearls and early golden buds of daffodil.
A blackbird upon Sparrow, Peggy Gladys does adorn,
while morning light accentuates the name of Mitchell, Bill.
I look behind, my footsteps in the dew a path have worn,
past Throwers by the row, as well as Bunting, Jane. Stowe, Daniel.

Moonlight Shadows

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.
© Mike Jones  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Night Owl

eerie uncanny
                                empty churchyard sinister
                                     Owl hoots tu-whooo


                                        November 4, 2022
                     Brian Strand's Haiku, Tanka, Footle Contest

                              Bitesize Poem 55 Poetry Contest
                                      Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Form: Haiku

Nostalgia

Sorcerer wearies of casting
Spells that nobody can feel,
Ghouls are impatient with fasting,
Death-knells no longer will peal.

Churchyard is grown up with wild weeds,
Marble tombs settle and crack,
Will-o-wisp dies in the marsh reeds,
Leprechauns never come back.

Vampires without an oasis,
Banshees with nothing to moan,
Ghosts who can’t find where their place is,
Skeletons, grave-less, alone.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Nostalgia

Sorcerer wearies of casting
Spells that nobody can feel,
Ghouls are impatient with fasting,
Death-knells no longer will peal.

Churchyard is grown up with wild weeds,
Marble tombs settle and crack,
Will-o-wisp dies in the marsh reeds,
Leprechauns never come back.

Vampires without an oasis,
Banshees with nothing to moan,
Ghosts who can’t find where their place is,
Skeletons, grave-less, alone.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Advent Song

Fresh flakes come pirouetting down
To softly lie below
And cloak the peaceful churchyard in
A crystal bed of snow.

Young choristers in unison
Raise voices to proclaim
The dawning of redeeming grace
And glory of His name.

And once again this Christmas time
The Saviour’s love imparts 
An everlasting gift of peace
To humble, contrite hearts.


01.12.19

F T I SPECIAL for advent : Brian Strand
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Something That Was Promised

something that was promised

in quiet moments when 
night creeps on 
toward its soft dawn bed 
I wonder
why we agreed 
so long ago
at this time to meet

who were we then before 
blithe spirits silted 
from our mortal coils 
to lay in unknown churchyard 
or battle field
what was our reincarnate pledge
as sudden as a lightning strike
some where beneath my ribs
you came to me all swirling words

and I knew you

Premium Member Echoes in the Mist

 The tombstones in the old churchyard
 Stood as sentinels to the past
 But eternity is not theirs to guard
 To time itself their memory is cast

 As the morning wraps itself in a mist
 A raven perches on a sentinel
 Its caws echoing in the midst
 To the toll of a distant bell

 As rain begins to fall
 The distant bell continues to toll
 Those guardians still stand tall
 As if to watch over the departed souls
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member An Auld Kirk Yard

Seven beautiful lines contest, Sponsor Constance La France Posted 21/3/25 Through the auld Kirk gate in the churchyard wall The rough green field where my ancestors lie Woodbine and ivy around the graves sprawl With Rosemary and rue growing nearby Where wild rabbits mutter when screech owls cry Safe in the shadow of granite tombstones A jewel I loved, my grandmother’s bones

Saints and Sinners

Teenage boys smoke marijuana in their Backyard,
The Priests make the smoke from incense grace the churchyard.

Harlots woo their clients like lovers,
Preachers spread God’s word in street corners.

Cops battle gangsters and fraudsters,
Angels battle demons and monsters.

A Pastor is on the Pulpit serving God’s Meal,
A Rapper is on stage keeping it real.

The D.J  feels the club with Jive,
The Choir Hymns make the Temple come Alive.
Form: Couplet

Old Souls

Old souls once loved and grieved
long forgotten all they achieved.
Laid to rest in an old churchyard
With a solitary tree standing guard.
Eternally sleeping peaceful and shaded
names they once had, long since faded
Memories entombed behind a dry stone wall,
with the soothing chirrup of a sparrows call.
Overgrown grass, dead flowers rot
as these old souls are long forgot.
Now distant echoes of another time 
Slowly disappearing as weeds entwine
© Linda Bolt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

~ the Playground and the Churchyard ~

............ ............. ............... ................. ............... Love knows- no division, an open decision, adversity matters- not, love seizes the- opportunity. God's- heart, an open- playground. The world ... His- grand churchyard. Empowered are those- who know this, remain- willing, live to show this- be honest with themselves. They know, peace is not fleeting. In the offering love is abounding. ..... ...
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.

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