SONGS & DREAMS
OF OTHER THINGS
about
AND THAT WHICH IS SCARY!

by Jeffrey Murrell

FATHER BY THE GRAVES


The day had gone by without incident.
The sky was turning overcast and wet.

The sun had managed to melt some away
From time to time with a thin warm ray.

I decided to go for a walk,
A time to reflect on my would-be loss,

When a slinking road, framed by lovely green,
With foliage on the walls, shaded by trees,

Led me down through the gates of a park
(The sunshine barely lifting the dark).

A pleasant area for young and old;
But no one was around -- I was alone,

I came upon some graves and marveled
At their ornate markers -- tiny models

Of castles and cottages, crafted with
The quaintest details and placed as if

In villages with no time nor place;
Then I saw father, dim-eyed, blank-faced.

He gave no warning of his trip, but he
Was also surprised and pleased to see me.

He appeared to be much older and pale
(His life had collected hundreds of ails).

I looked at the graves, pondered a bit;
Then I looked at father and embraced him.