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Graveyard, so fair




there are many shadows in the graveyard that dance
merrily they dance in the morning, merry
are they at dusk and at midnight
merrily they twirl like falling lace from castle bedroom windows

beloved are the monuments
gravid, gravid the owl 
as they shutter their silent movies forward 
sun flicks flips but devoid of mournful prayers are they
or cries of the damned and the saved

confusion amasses upon light 
between the frames of the movie each branch 
grasps and bird glides

calls of the wild burgeon but when the air trembles still
and all is appropriately dreary

my lover restless, restless lover my love
the grass below the leaves above me here are intrinsically insincere

but I shall be the wind 





 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                                                                   

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Comments


  • GuardianPhoenix7289
    November 12
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    Creepy

    Your word choices, the metaphors, placement, the very flow of the poem just creeped me out. Obviously I mean in a good way, some of the words were just so obscure and I love it when people use words like so. A beautiful piece you've put together, great job and good luck on your contest!

  • aychellus gold member
    November 8
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    again hauntingly beautiful, with an intrinsic melodic flow. i'm beginning to sound like a simpering sycophant, beautiful!


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 7

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    You are most certainly the wind that moves the tides, the fields, from their stationary stance. I love that word "gravid", too. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie.