This was inspired by a lonely graveyard in Independence Hill, Virginia that was across the street from my house when I was ten. I used to act as its caretaker.
In a church yard long forgotten,
lies Mary E. in a shallow grave,
the autumn leaves her only
hue, her simple stone
her only remaining echo
in this lonely Virginia wood.
Mary E. saw the weddings in
the church, the funerals and the sermons.
The picnics and the children at play
The trees around her held her tight
when the war turned all to night
in this Virginia wood.
She saw the soldiers fall all around
onto the snow covered ground,
their confused young faces pleading
for a mother's arms
and when the bullets stopped flying,
the boys stopped crying, it was
only Mary E. who remained behind
in this Virgina wood.
The church is now abandoned, only a
skeleton of its former self, it
will soon collapse and be forgotten
And it will then be, just Mary E.
keeping a lonely vigil
in this Virginia wood.
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
Share
Print
Save
Follow
