From Dark into the Light

By Fred       
Deep at night ‘neath shrouded moon,
Are laments of the dead consumed
By howling wind between the stones,
O’er graves, protecting sacred bones.
Apparitions in the gloom;
A line of shadows ring the tomb.
Heads bowed low in reverence deep
For one consigned to endless sleep.
With burning tears they do recall
That feeble voice carried in the squall.
Whispered to the family she begot,
Her final words, “Forget me not.” …
Then breaks the dawn and floods the land,
A pretty posy in her hand.
Playing again in fields of dreams
On rainbows, scattered by sunbeams.

10 thoughts on “From Dark into the Light

  1. I want to play of a field of scattered sunbeams. I love this line. When I was a girl, there was a field of yellow flowers, across the creek, deep in the woods. It was one of my favorite spots to be. Even as a child, I loved to surround myself with the quiet of the woods, and live within the sounds created there. This verse, reminds me of the serenity I found in the yellow patch of quiet.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks to all of you that have taken the time to comment on this poem. I was concerned that the ending might have sounded flippant, but am pleased that it has mostly been appreciated.
    I’d also like to thank The Drabble for the choice of such a remarkably appropriate picture.


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