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written by: krvs
You would box me up in damp and heavy earth
to slowly rot; my absence brightly marked
for all to see, on days of guilt and duty.
I would lay me on a tower built of stone
and, rather than sing songs of rest eternal,
I would call the birds to feast on flesh.
You would hide my painted face and frozen lips
to hold a warmer memory of me;
politely dead and yet, for you, alive.
I would take my comfort seeing bone and blood,
my cold and sparkless inessential carcass,
giving life to life for life to come.
You would pay to fill a space with flower heads
and feed a hundred hazy grieving shades.
And all to prove to them your love of me.
I would show my love in every lonely silence,
through each dragging moment of your absence.
And the loss would still my world to hush.
Originally from the home of the Bard, now living in Cheshire UK. After a meandering path through music (performing, writing, recording and teaching), theatre, art, mature-studenting and then teaching psychology, counselling skills and statistics in Higher, Further and Adult Education, I find myself at the ripe young age of 52 dabbling in this poetry lark.