Feelings in a country churchyard
Small but tall the monument stands,
In a world of peaceful nature,
The wind blowing a gentle breeze,
And sunbeams shining down on me.
The grass soothingly makes a tune,
Bees buzz busy from plant to plant,
Butterflies gleam in summer sun,
Spindly creatures spin artistic.
I stand here next to the yew tree,
Where sleeping treasures ever lie,
Beneath engravings on these tombs,
Lies the past that holds the future.
My feet stand on these echoes past
Lessons to learn and maybe taught
But in my hands I hold my dreams
With both of these I’ll now walk on.