R.I.P. for M'lady Selene

story poem

 

R.I.P

 

Here where once there used to be.

A quiet village cemetery

A hallowed place in which to find

Tranquillity and peace of mind.

 

The graveyard served the village well

Though for how long no man can tell.

I’m sad to say the village died.

The land on which they all relied.

 

Suddenly lost fertility.

The people facing poverty.

Saw no good reason they should stay

 and one by one they moved away.

 

To other places far from here

 they seemed to simply disappear

to destinations we don’t know.

They had no choice they had to go

 

Houses fell into disrepair

because there was no one to care.

The passing years were none too kind.

There’s very little left to find.

 

 

Bar rotten floorboards here and there.

Weeds in profusion everywhere

The churchyard too is over grown

with brambles hiding each gravestone.

 

A long forgotten tragedy

a piece of ancient history.

The city suburbs must expand

and in their search for building land.

 

 The greedy eyes are cast this way.

They know they will not have to pay.

The true worth of this empty land,

The kind of price it will command.

 

When it is cleared ready to build.

They hope their coffers will be filled.

But fate has other plans in mind

 and to their great surprise they’ll find

 

That they have made a grave mistake.

The profits which they hope to make.

Will not now materialise.

Because they failed recognise.

 

The old grave yard as hallowed ground

Despite the evidence they found.

They wantonly destroyed head stones

showed no respect for buried bones.

 

It makes me happy to report

 the vaunted plans all came to naught.

Because some archaeologists

Researching local history lists

 

Discovered this old cemetery

and they decided it must be.

Preserved in perpetuity

 for generations yet to be.

 

The greedy men had lost their cash

Their dreams of profit turned to ash

 

the damage done for no reward.

 

The good folk who were buried here

 can sleep in peace they need not fear.

That their rest will be disturbed.

The greedy builders have been curbed.

 

A happy ending to my tale

Their efforts were to no avail.

It seems that fate itself decreed

 they must be punished for their greed.

 

Wednesday, 28 July 2010  http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem is amazing. I like those old graveyards hidden away. The story is sad but true. I see empty towns in my life. Ghost towns closed down for lack of jobs and opportunities. Your strong words made the story come alive. Thank you for this story.
Coyote

[x]

This is a great little write.
It would seem greed is the new fashion and I don't know how this came to pass but I find it most sad.
Your write bristles with justice and makes one hanker for the ways of old..the village so to speak. Good on you. It reminds me of your stag write, I often think of that one you know...how he got to live another day..beautiful.
Thanks for posting.