Tag Archives: graveyards

Graves and Poems

A number of my poems reference All Saints Church and, in particular it’s graveyard, although none refer to that place of worship by name. The church was constructed between 1827-29 and you can find out about it’s history here. As regards the graveyard, you can read about it here and here.

As mentioned above, a number of my poems refer to All Saints Church Graveyard, including ‘In the Churchyard today’:

In the Churchyard today,

Through the play,

Of light and shade,

I my shadow made.

 

When I go away,

Will my shadow stay,

Behind for people to see,

And say,

‘That was he,

And now midst light and shade,

His shadow is forever made’.

 

This poem can be found in ‘The Writers Pen and other poems’, with the UK and US links following:

 

With thanks to my friend Shanelle, I have included below several photographs which show All Saints Church and its environs. In the tiled mosaic image below there are photographs of myself and Trigger in the graveyard, as well as the church and some of the graves.

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Some Thoughts On My Local Churchyard

To and fro
Through the churchyard I go
One day I know
That it will not be so.
Why should I care?
For I will not be there
To know.

In The Churchyard Today

In the churchyard today
Through the play
Of light and shade
I my shadow made.

When I go away
Will my shadow stay
Behind for people to see
And say
“That was he
And now midst light and shade
His shadow is forever made”.

Come Halloween

Come Halloween, I shall hide behind gravestones
And rattle artificial bones,
And should anyone ask
Why I perform this task
I shall with a blood curdling groan
Confess That I have no bones of my own …

Of Death and Sex

Gravestones I can not see
Look back at me.
Tomb rhymes with womb,
Or is it the other way around?
Both death and sex are profound
Yet today
We go out of our way
To Avoid speaking of the final sleep.

Stories of sex do our need
For entertainment feed.
We are “shocked”
By a footballer’s disgrace,
Although the smile on our face
Mocks the “shocked”.

The papers care
About morality and titillate
Their readers over their breakfast plate
With stories of how a paedophile was caught
And brought to court
By vigilantes who perhaps encourage the week to do
What they might not otherwise do
By pretending to be an underage kid.
No matter for we are rid
Of another “monster” from our midst.

The gravestones continue to stare,
While the populace care
More
About the celebrity’s whore.
Perhaps it is a fear of what the grave has in store
That causes the tabloid readers
(Those bottom feeders)
To read
Articles about how the underclass do breed
And gaze at half-naked celebrities capers
In what some call “newspapers”.