Needs must
A stairway to heaven or the gateway to hell?
Will feelings stay with us? Only time passed will tell.
As I sit in the graveyard lost lives hear my call,
They sing “Will you join us? Come one or come all”
A breeze slowly passes while the yews bend and sway
The time angled headstones look up at the day.
Lives long forgotten, names faded and worn
Some died in their sleep, others battered and torn,
Now together they lay while their lives span the years
Fond memories hidden no more heartaches or tears.
Yet deep in my soul I can still feel their pain
And the hate that was passed on from Able to Cain,
Past sins come unheeded of violence and greed
That weigh on my mind in this moment of need.
Shadowy images creep in
carried on a cold, November wind
and easing through the leaved trees
autumn gives one last final sneeze
as every leaf and even a branch or two
fall from the distant forestal yews.
Listen well to the howls and cries
whispering the song of wonder and beauty of the skies
when God and nature blend the seasons
with calm messages for change and reason.
Should December ease in gentle or wild
the snows ice chilled or the days warm and mild
remember this song whistling thru the trees
God's breath lay in every breeze.
Suddenly, the days are colder
wind rushing briskly on my shoulder;
summer shadows fade and disappear
in the cloudy grays of the northern sphere.
Here it comes, the autumn fall
mix of windy colors in each squall
crimson reds, glints of golden perfections
glowing florescent, irridiscent pink reflections.
Brilliant purples in India ink
with summer teetering on the brink
in saturated mocha yellowed hues
brittle brown in between greens of yews.
Color me a picture palette changing
blended in each shade arranging,
foraged leaves and pumpkin bliss
released by autumn's subtle kiss.
Cinnabar sentinels stand swaying in the mist of morning
through whispered hush and gentle breeze, like jewels , the leaves adorning.
Cool the streams in cresting waves float laurel barques of prizm hues,
washed past bulrush and fading ferns, through the bows of bending yews.
The fields of amber swaying grain, like dancing partners, svelte and lithe
as harvest time leaves nature's tithe, when cut with sickle and scythe
Too soon the cold of winter comes as frazil chokes the meadow brook,
and crushed vermilion petals fall in seasons ever bending crook.
Yet, now the dancing rainbows glide from crown to bough to lowly earth
where Autumn's fashion runway show, awaits next season's rebirth.
10/04/2018
When daylight seeps
‘round curtains sadder than the hangman's noose
To a room where brooding melancholy sleeps
Where are you, outside of lifes lone excuse?
When steaming food
To polished plate, wisped reminds of meals once shared
On tabletop scarred with my lonesome mood
Where are you, to ease when I no longer care?
The music swells
Baleful violins weep a note so pure
Soul seeks me out, my pain so deeply felt
Where are you, when I alone must endure?
When liquid eyes
Across crowded room expectant seek
Your approach, my shining armoured prize
Where are you, my loneliness to defeat?
When dread so taunts
And leaden feet on gravel pathways pass
‘midst grey skinned yews in winter gaunt
There are you ‘neath granite slab and frost-burned grass.
searching for the perfect word on virginal paper
leads to the cut, to oaken tears, to a sorrow of yews;
then the unbalance, rowdy tracks of leaves and
branches, the pushing down against green bursts,
the mud and ways, as if we could claim to find more
than the idle wind through trees on a summer`s night,
more than a hush,more than a whisper,more than this
Long grey stone around the Church
festooned with ivy
and marked with lichen.
Marking its perimeter.
Long lines of ancient yews
closing it off from our world.
The Church stark, forbidding.
Its Norman tower against the sky
but abandoned bereft of worship.
Down in the Churchyard
the graves are old and scattered
and all round them grow
sweet forget-me-nots
tiny, so blue and shy
so like the sweet souls
that have gone before
but still they are in our hearts
I wander, blindly seeking
where does she rest?
There is her grave
Oh my love
Why did you go?
There are more blue flowers of remembrance here
You are always in my heart
and I’ll forget you not.