The Country Cemetary
By Christine Crowley, 7th Aug 2012 | Follow this author
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Posted in WikinutWritingPoetry
It was a warm, beautiful, summer afternoon. There I was going to a memorial service for a sailing friend. It was held in a country church - very old and lovely. I got there a bit early and wandered through the adjoining cemetary.
A Country Cemetary
Next to the country church,
Warm and silent in the sun.
The country cemetary empty,
Of any one.
I arrived a bit too early,
I walked among the stones.
I wondered about their lives,
And love atone.
Who are these people lying here,
What lives did they enjoy?
Why death so young or old?
What did destroy?
The stones remain so silent,
On a beautiful summer day.
The sky above is oh so blue,
I see a big blue jay.
I sit on a bench and wonder,
When I will join these stones.
Living is so precious,
When we are grown.
I sigh and leave the plots,
And go into the church.
I say a prayer for everyone,
Under the trees of birch.
Comments
8th Aug 2012 (#)
Thoughts that easily resonate with all, Christine. We all become statistics sooner or later; fact of life and death! siva
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8th Aug 2012 (#)
You are so right, Siva. Thank you.
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11th Aug 2012 (#)
love the essence of your words..I can feel your thoughts..moving...thank you
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11th Aug 2012 (#)
Thank you, cnwriter. I appreciate your comment!
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8th Sep 2012 (#)
lovely Christine!
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8th Sep 2012 (#)
Thank you, Delicia!
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