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.