Brambles and Tears
Brambles and Tears
A short cut through a churchyard past an ancient weathered yew,
Past a grey stone tower, where the doves and pigeons flew.
I didn’t really look around me as I strode upon my way,
And I didn’t know the people as I passed by where they lay.
Then in a corner by a wall..standing quietly all alone,
I saw a lonely weathered marker with a boys name etched in the stone.
Surrounded by a bramble bush, tilted slightly to one side,
Lichen spread across the legend that proclaimed just who had died.
I crouched and read the wording..a message from the past,
A message from a different time when life was slow not fast.
Someone’s son had lost his life falling from a tree,
How Sad I thought it must have been for his loving family.
I wondered how it happened..was the tree an apple or a pear?
Or perhaps it was an oak tree that he had climbed just for a dare.
Who was it that had found him was it family or a friend,
Or perhaps a passing traveller was with him at the end.
My thoughts were interrupted by the tolling of a bell,
So standing up I turned to leave then paused to say farewell.
The gravestone in the bramble bush had really got to me,
And I shed a tear as I walked away for the boy who fell from a tree.
©️Martin Silvester 29/4/2018.
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