Graveside
I slump to hold the hand of death,
Atop the rocks and silent stones,
I listen to the well of time,
Encompassing the buried bones…
Whispered promises of peace,
Extended from the lips of earth;
“We’ll keep your dear departed safe,
We’ll sanctify their very birth,
Up in the bright array of day,
Among the busy halls of life,
You cannot know our blessed hush,
For all the din and swirling strife,
But here, below the graveyard plot,
The chasing voices lose their edge,
Below the grass, below the trees,
Below the lilly pilly hedge,
The birds are all you’ll hear my dear,
Their heaven gifted harmony,
The neverending house of death,
A purified fraternity,
I promise you, from aeons gone,
Our vast, pastoral home is safe,
A sanctuary from troubled years,
A harbour for the time-tossed waif,
Aye, only prayers are spoken here,
Whispered thoughts of holy God,
Resounding through the tomb of soil,
Below the dank and dampened sod,
And sure enough, my precious friend,
When all is said and done with you,
You’ll know our stately company,
And lie in peace below the dew,
Again to greet your cherished friend,
Who now resides within our fold,
But don’t neglect to find true love,
Before your frame is spent and old.”
AD Lovkis, 12/05/25
adamdaniel 