Far Less Than Half A Mile Away

( a touch of Victoriana recently discovered)

this rusted crusted gate creaks loud
as iron railings shout keep out
for decades left in sad neglect
yet ivy strangles ivy trails
and crawling vines are everywhere
old gravestones play at hide and seek
while conifers and mourning pines
wear coats that creep up to their throats
stretch tall their necks spread wide their cones

obscure the names of the deceased
though dates do show of childhood woes
too soon their beating hearts gave way
and here we wander where the rain
has pelted down on thirsty flowers
the flora chokes in creams and blues
abundant fresh from April showers
the splendor once of marbled stone
now broken lonely overgrown

where once the grass was manicured
memorials were pristine clean
where angel eyes were heaven bound
the empire queen ruled from her throne
now Gaia has reclaimed the land
so here the birds chirp constantly
serenity reigns peacefully
a short call from the present day
far less than half a mile away

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I go to the Memorial days for the soldiers. I clean up old graves of the forgotten soldiers. It is sad how some graves. Un-kept graves make me sad. To be forgotten. A powerful and worthwhile poetry shared dear Chris.
Coyote

[Chris Shaw]

Thanks you Coyote for your thoughts. Hope you had a beautiful Christmas Day. All good wishes.

Chris

[Robert Trakofler]

Chris your skills are over the top in this piece you never cease to amaze me! it may be that I am also very partial to old broken down cemeteries and the memories they hold if i was that close I would visit it frequently one of my favorite hobbies when I was younger was to do grave rubbings at such fine old places and invariably a poem or too would come from them:) you are truly one of the queens of writers Café and your lines have marked my soul indelibly over the years I only wish I could be here more frequently but my heart is always here

[Chris Shaw]

Hello Bunny, so lovely to have a visit from you. Thrilled you like this poem and I thank you for your warm words of encouragement. I do like old graveyards myself. I like the sense of peace they offer and my mind is free to wander. I sincerely hope you are keeping well and I send you and yours my very best wishes for Christmas. Take good care of yourself.

Chris

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

i really like the title. half a mile away... what is there? well, the end of the road. and in this morbid piece, we get to explore from your eyes not just scenery but all the things this scene evokes. impermanance. the mortality of man, the mortality of symbols, and the immortality of mother nature. very vivid, it works on many levels.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Ern. We have lived in the same home for many years and yet recently we discovered this old Victorian graveyard almost within spitting distance. An eye opener. Thank you so much for your very welcome visit.

Chris

[Patricia]

now this is my kind of read and write! Profound, real, and absolutely skillfully written.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Patricia and congrats on having your second book published. I shall be ordering through Amazon.

Chris

[JD Major]

Sad, dead and abandoned, yet replenished and lush in Gaia's natural embrace.
Foreboding and distant, yet far less than half a mile away.
... speaks to me of death's dichotomy and proximity. Beautiful! :)

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you JD. Abandoned yes, but peaceful and so away from current living. It’s an escape place.

Chris

[Ken Simm.]

So full of atmosphere and gothic visuals. This reminds me of so much of my upbringing strangely.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Ken. A Victorian cemetery where Mother Nature has reclaimed. A source of fascination and such peace. I appreciate you.

Chris

[AYVID N]

The graves were kept immaculate and decorated always, till those who tended to them entered their own graves and thereafter those who tended to their graves. A century slipped past and graves once tended dearly, lay forgotten and weathered with time. More centuries will pass and those living now will be forgotten too and the marble will break again and again and the Ivys will run over all. In passing is all the splendor of life... ❤️

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Divya, you sum it up perfectly. There is no one left to mourn now. They have all gone. It is left to strangers, like me to walk with the spirits of the dead. Nature reclaims what is hers. Thank you my friend 💐

[Pete]

i like to visit old graveyards. places such as this so telling and sacred. you words do it justice. brilliantly laid chris. somber and at peace with creation. top notch for certain. eulogized for eternity.

[Chris Shaw]

That’s a fine review you have left Pete. Many thank yous for your thoughts.

Chris

[Lydia Shutter]

When we were in England, we visited the Jan Austen house. We walked about a half mile from there and found a tiny church with a graveyard. Sheep grazed between the stones that were nearly illegible. There is a special peace one feels wandering through a place such as this. So near to high rise buildings and shops...yet hundreds of years separate them. Loved the personification of the conifers! Great write. Lydi**

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Lydi** for a lovely review. Yes, the sense of peace was quite incredible.

Chris

[Soren]

A beautifully imaged picture that seems to form before the eye with this write Chris. I could see it clearly and felt comfortable there some how. It seems a proper resting place. Your poems are always so rich in their imagery.

[Chris Shaw]

So pleased the imagery comes through Soren. I do work hard on that. Many thanks.

Chris