The garden of the dead

this poem is about graveyards and how We take no notice of them

some tranquil summer nights I'm led

to walk the garden of the dead



to wonder in this bone filled yard

that others simply disregard



i stroll amongst the sacred grounds

see ancient graves,and newest mounds



my eyes see rich men's marble stones

protects their once loved precious bones



aside a cross marked , paupers grave

no wealth he shows,for soul to save



stand hushed at ground where infants sleep

were husbands hold own wives that weep



and peace at last ,their rifles down

the brave who fought for land or crown



are free from war and pain and fears

i shed for them some mortal tears



my warmest thoughts to them i give

but know my time on earth must live



so promise as i walk away

the fullest life will live each day



© eliza 2010