A Poem Written On A Walk Through A Cemetery, Musings from the Cemetery Mailbag Scot

Musings from the Cemetery: by Patsy Hennessy

Written On A Walk Through A Cemetery
Poem By Glen E. Pond
Death and sleep seem near related,
In this common house of clay -
Here it is upon his head - stone:
"He has only gone away!"
Green the grass grows all around him -
Roses bloom when violets fade,
And to earth he was no stranger,
For his bed was ready made.
What is undone, time will finish.
This long sleep will be his last.
All his future was a promise
But that promise, too, is past.
Something vital went before him
That emptied every cell -
More than breath make up the body,
More than mortal eye can tell.
Raging wind and winter tempest
May intimidate the brave -
Wreak your vengeance on the living;
All are safe within the grave.
Hunger, sharpened by starvation,
Stalks the earth world around,
But the corpses fear no famine
Feeding others in the ground.
Pain, the torture rack on pillows,
With no opiate in sight,
He has slipped between your fingers,
He has passed you in the night.
Love's disease and fevered romance
Cannot come his way again -
If death robbed him of their pleasure,
It has spared him all their pain.
So in summing up the total:
Life seems pleasant, at its best,
But where sorrow outshades pleasure,
Then, the dead are truly blest!

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Thursday, December 26th, 2019

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