Reflection
Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 12:38 pm
Mines a bit of a fudge with the prompts Maureen.
REFLECTION
The frozen breath of winter’s morn had touched this sacred ground
and coated all the eye could see with frost for miles around.
And seemed to bite into my flesh while I was standing there;
I sensed a tear roll down my cheek – no shame I guess to care.
Still standing by that tiny mound my mind then clears at last,
with thoughts about a tragedy that happened in the past.
A blaze upon a nearby tree had said his name was Beau,
just three years old when he had died, one hundred years ago.
This lonely grave was near a mine no doubt from gold rush days,
when rumours of a distant find could set men’s minds ablaze.
What tragedy had happened here? It seems I’ll never know,
for not a clue could now be found around this old time show.
For twenty years I’ve called in here each time I’ve passed this way
and always there is sadness and I sense it here today.
I turn at last to leave again, but know that I’ll be back,
out to this long forgotten place way off the beaten track.
+++++
© T. E. Piggott
REFLECTION
The frozen breath of winter’s morn had touched this sacred ground
and coated all the eye could see with frost for miles around.
And seemed to bite into my flesh while I was standing there;
I sensed a tear roll down my cheek – no shame I guess to care.
Still standing by that tiny mound my mind then clears at last,
with thoughts about a tragedy that happened in the past.
A blaze upon a nearby tree had said his name was Beau,
just three years old when he had died, one hundred years ago.
This lonely grave was near a mine no doubt from gold rush days,
when rumours of a distant find could set men’s minds ablaze.
What tragedy had happened here? It seems I’ll never know,
for not a clue could now be found around this old time show.
For twenty years I’ve called in here each time I’ve passed this way
and always there is sadness and I sense it here today.
I turn at last to leave again, but know that I’ll be back,
out to this long forgotten place way off the beaten track.
+++++
© T. E. Piggott
That's a beautiful poem Terry and if the prompts got you writing or sharing it's all to the good - my job is done (sigh). Nothing is set in concrete here.