ramblings and things
In The Night Churchyard
This is a pleasant place during the day
Whispering tree, standing tombstones,
Unmarked graves’ grasses
So very closely mown.
A place of quiet
To sit and reflect
To stand with bowed head
And pay one’s respects.
But this place is so different
After fall of the night;
Familiar looks ominous with
The absence of light.
Trees no longer whisper,
They seem to moan
And you’re very aware
You’re there on your own.
Rationality can shake
And give way to fear
And you suddenly wish
You were anywhere but here.
You vow you’ll never again
Come here so late
And sigh with relief
As you reach the gate.
Outside you experience
Such a feeling of release
While there at you back the
Churchyard returns to quiet and peace.
This is a pleasant place during the day.
In The Night Churchyard