Overgrown Grave Stone
I never thought that weeds would grow
Though years they have been left, I know
Somehow I thought that nature's way
Would shout "a loved one here is lay! "
Blooms, plants and flowers cheering
Instead, you're slowly disappearing
I brush the plants, hair off your face
A stone cold touch is my embrace
Relief: I stop and find a note
At least that someone's wrote, I hoped
"lipstick, chicken, Reggae sauce"
A list discarded at your door
But why? As I write, do passers pass me wide?
I am not sad, do not cry
I know, to passers by this stone,
Is left untouched and overgrown
And though, I know,
your type may disappear
I do not vow to come each year
Instead, to you I will invest
In what you've left, I'll do my best
I vow to teach and learn and grow
To live and let my colours show
I promise not to waste my time
Planting bird food at your side
For by this slab, you do not lie
I am your stone, I'll make me shine.
poem by Peggy Pollock
Added by Poetry Lover
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