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Two Stones
The river makes a sweeping bend,
Near the fresh plowed fields.
Across the trail and up the hill,
Is where the homestead stood.
The old foundation weather worn,
Barely it remains. ..
The trees and honeysuckle, overtime,
Have taken its ruined place. .
Except the spot, just away, from what was once the home,
Two Stones stand erect, still, and all alone.
The two stones bare the names. .
A father and a son,
Who left this life so long ago,
This country was still young.
The father's says aged thirty-six,
A man much in his prime.
The son's stone spoke a different tale,
eighteen months no more.
To try and think the fathers pain,
The anguish and the grief,
This I could not do.
I often wonder as I stand,
Before these faded stones. ..
What tragedy had fallen them,
At this tender age.
Many, many, years have passed,
Ten scores, a little more.
And still the stones stand erect,
Weathered by the passing time...
A father and his son,
For all eternity.
Near the fresh plowed fields.
Across the trail and up the hill,
Is where the homestead stood.
The old foundation weather worn,
Barely it remains. ..
The trees and honeysuckle, overtime,
Have taken its ruined place. .
Except the spot, just away, from what was once the home,
Two Stones stand erect, still, and all alone.
The two stones bare the names. .
A father and a son,
Who left this life so long ago,
This country was still young.
The father's says aged thirty-six,
A man much in his prime.
The son's stone spoke a different tale,
eighteen months no more.
To try and think the fathers pain,
The anguish and the grief,
This I could not do.
I often wonder as I stand,
Before these faded stones. ..
What tragedy had fallen them,
At this tender age.
Many, many, years have passed,
Ten scores, a little more.
And still the stones stand erect,
Weathered by the passing time...
A father and his son,
For all eternity.
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Two Stones
Two Stones
