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Posts Tagged ‘cemetery’

I went to thank Her –
But She Slept –
Her Bed – a funneled Stone –
With Nosegays at the Head and Foot –
That Travellers – had thrown –

Who went to thank Her –
But She Slept –
‘Twas Short – to cross the Sea –
To look upon Her like – alive –
But turning back – ’twas slow –

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‘Neath a stone
A president lies –
LBJ.

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The photo is mine, taken at the LBJ Ranch near Johnson City, Texas.
LBJ’s tombstone is the large one center right; Lady Bird’s large one center left.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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This time sticks, and most times stones
Raised above one’s flesh and bones.
Markers for those who are left,
O’er the one of whom bereft.
Stakes of wood will rot, decay.
Stones last longer (one horse shay).
Mourners, though, are like the wood
Cannot stay like stones will, should.
Markers, then, of wood are fine.
Mourners’ time with them align.

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nq1PRjw/Graveyard

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

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Next, Babies And Storks

Now I know
Where the clouds come from:
Tall smokestacks.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

 

Thimble

Thumb armor,
Protecting one hand
From other.

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The Watchers

All the trees
Are weeping willows
In graveyards.

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Storks – photo by Michael and Christa Richert at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nJJFMFg/industrial+smokestack

Thimble – photo by Miriam Wickett at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nJZgwXs/thimble

Watchers – photo by Kevin Tuck at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/o5B6Lp6/Graveyard

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

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Don’t Get The Point(s)

A bit like
Devil’s pincushions –
And well-named.

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They’ll Roll Over You

Drink the scotch!
A barrel of fun!
Till morning.

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Ticket Punched

Where are we?
Let’s get out of here!
Wrong movie!

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Points – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nFXvS0i/cactus+garden2

Roll – photo by Bern Altman at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mBPPVnO/Scotch+Barrels

Ticket – photo by Barun Patro at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mf6HFJW/Cemetry

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

———————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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            The Latter Date

A mourner walks among the stones
    That mark where loved ones lie –
At least their bodies – empty shells
    They no more occupy. 

He makes occas’nal pilgrimage
   To this quiet meeting place,
Where only wind dares make a sound,
   As leaves blow o’er its face. 

He stands; he stares; he stoops beside
   The plot, and there he lays
Small token of lamenting love,
   Heart-broken death bouquets. 

He gazes on the lettering,
    Life written as a dash,
And rues the latter date he sees;
    Upon his heart a gash. 

His hands reach down to touch the stone,
    Words that are written there;
His fingers softly trace the name,
   As if a cheek that’s fair. 

He stands at last, surveys the scene;
   Looks down once more and sighs;
He toes the dirt; kicks, wistful, twice –
   There’s nothing but goodbyes, 

What draws him here where nothing dwells
   What links him to this place?
The dash is in his memory
    And in the grave – the trace.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

 

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Beersheba War Cemetery

Image via Wikipedia

 Legacy

Life bereft –
The grave visitors,
All that’s left.

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I Implore You

In graveyards,
The silent treatment –
Speak once more!

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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Mark Twain photo portrait.

Image via Wikipedia

The following is the epitaph placed on his daughter’s tomb by Mark Twain:

Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here.
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here.

Green sod above,
Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, Good night.

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