There will now be a short Intermission.
Our Sales Staff will be in all parts of my Webpage selling: Choc- Ices , Soft drinks and Pop Corn.
I died It’s says on the Chiseled Stone,
Aged 45 and quite alone,
And among the mourners that stand and grieve
With Solemn looks and Blackened Weeds;
Are friends and family all gathered by,
Some now resigned, while others cry.
They pretend to know the man that’s found,
Beneath the Soil - the Sexton’s mound.
So I watch with joy this farce at play,
For ‘Rather him than me’ they’ll say.
Their Love for me was the Placid kind,
Its climate unchanged with the flow of time.
But behind the Yew and so alone,
A figure that Weeps of Heartbreak known,
A lady I see ; Miss Mary Court,
A stay-at-Home ; the quiet sort-
Yes I’d seen her on walks, just once in a while,
‘Good Morning’ she’d say with a timid smile.
Then watch as she turns to stroll away,
I wanted to ask, ‘Are you free today’?
But I always thought she’d give no mind,
To a Soul like me ; The retiring kind.
But oh - How She Weeps;
How She Weeps.
,
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Author:
Kevin Hulme (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 10th, 2025 20:48
- Comment from author about the poem: A Poem of lost opportunities. Inspired by the Poetry of Edgar Lee Masters.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Cassie58, sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments3
A very touching poem Kevin. Played out beautifully with fine imagery. Those lost opportunities can be so sad. Much enjoyed. Your poetry never disappoints.
Thank you: Iām glad you enjoyed it.
Works wonders even more so in the literal as I return from an interment service today, what timing! šš»š
Glad you liked it.
Funerals are the most Saddest of Occasions. Sorry you had to go to one.
A very nicely worded poem around a topic little discussed and with great meaning. The metaphor may be extended beyond just social to general missed opportunities. Very well done and a fave
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