ramblings and things

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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.




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In The Night Churchyard