When you Walk amongst the Graves
On a Teary Rainy Day.
Beneath the Oaks and O’er the Moss,
You'll find Victoria's Bouquet.
Scattered flowers adorning Stones
Remember a Loved one's Smile.
He seems So near on This Day;
She could have Stayed a While.
Let Victoria's Bouquet Comfort Thee,
As the Years Roll Past.
Amongst the Graves we Share a Time
That was never Meant to Last.
Before my grave a night-dress be
for slumb'ring 'neath the moss,
one I shall wear it for eternity -
I have borne a worthy loss.
Misplaced I the pain'd remorse
of the wounded slain within.
Shadowed is the haunted course
of ghostly, spectral sin.
Thine hand in mine to pull me from
the phantom of my past.
I sigh for thy words of balm
and off my shroud doth cast.
Until the eve of our last kiss
each day with thee resides in bliss.
The Devil’s Rose
In the night garden, where the dark wind softly blows
Dwells a thorny fleur aptly named the Devil’s Rose.
With petals of deepest crimson, its hellish attire,
Twisting and curling from the central stamen like fire.
On a new moon eve, when no heav’nly light illuminates,
The devil’s rose fully opens, spreads petals, and waits.
If you lift the gate latch on the garden to spy,
You’ll see the earth crack, opening its blacken’d eye.
A demonic cry will arise from the soil in a vicious moan,
Deep gurglings from the site of Beelzebub’s throne.
A smoky hand emerges, fingers poised for the flower,
Retrieving its thorny stem to adorn fair Satan’s tower.
After night passes and the garden brightens at dawn,
The Devil’s Rose, where once it bloomed, is gone.
The Love is in the Words:
In the lines we write
By brightest sun, highest noon,
Midnight hour, candlelight.
The Love is in the Heart:
In the words we say,
Whispering in tender ears,
Easing burdens in the day.
The Love is in the Time:
In the hours we share
A glance holds both hearts
In a lifetime of care.
The Love is in the Work:
In all that we sow.
Plant the seed, water well.
We love more as we grow.