[William Robbins]

The cemetery lawn seemed to be moving,
like there was an unseen hand brushing it.
Above this predictable pristine emerald mantle,
invisible ripples of "something"
temporarily blurred the air and my vision.
Through this memorial repository for soul slumber
where what once lived now returned to Mother Earth's womb
I had this nagging inkling that life of some unearthly form
was hovering over it like a sentinel and fretful mother hen.
Within my spirit
it stirred and energized me with strange intruding thoughts,
ones which had survived the death of their creators
as they claimed the environment of plots and their surroundings
for a podium to preach to anyone visiting and blessed with spiritual ears.
Disembodied voices suddenly crept into my mind
finally knowing they were free to be heard
though lacking any mortal breath.
Standing alone next to my parent's grave
a gentle caress touched my shoulder of what felt like a hand
and I quickly prayed it was just the wind!

[psycosis]

I love the descriptive nature here....I enjoyed reading it

[William Robbins]

Thank you for you kind remarks. Poetry never lives without those who appreciate it.

[Lost Snail]

true, true. I like the poem, well written with a good question in it. I found the rhythm a little bumpy though...

Originally Posted by lostsnail

true, true. I like the poem, well written with a good question in it. I found the rhythm a little bumpy though...

Thank you for you comments. Rhythm can be difficult always bring to perfection with some forms of expression where one dabbles beyond the looking glass.

[Lubesh]

I enjoyed that very much, out of all your writing I didn't have struggle much with it. That is a compliment by the way. ???