Far out in the county
in a deserted field
where grass has died and wilted
a graveyard is revealed.
The graves of family members
who worked hard with the land
were marked by simple stones
some of which still stand.
The stones not costly granite
some simple limestone gray
most were just poured concrete
where family bowed to pray.
Names and date were crudely
carved in each stone in love
some broken and fallen
other pointing straight above.
Each grave holds a treasure
and a story of a life
some died in golden years
others from some strife.
Some shared a common date
perhaps from some disease
and now they laid together
below a grove of trees.
After winter blankets them
and dresses them with snow
spring will come hide them
with tall grass that will grow.
No one will come and mow it
or bring flowers in a vase
God alone will tend them
with a special loving grace.
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EDWIN
Cheers,
Dan
Georg
PS. Near by we have a beautiful graveyard, it it so fantastic that people are dying to go there.
Wow..this is awesome. I have a small graveyard in the woods beside my home. I've often wondered of the lives there..what was it like for them..how old were they...the graves are very, very old. Brush and thorns have covered alot of the graves...some with small markers, some with nothing. This poem hits home for me larry, now I know I'm not the only one who thinks about such things.
Blessings,
~Linda
Be always safe,
Karen