Lament Poem by Warren Atherton

Happens, I came upon a copse,
T'was in the dead of night.
Moonlight torched a meadow path,
Led thee to this place of wrath,
A Silver Birch bade out a laugh-
My monolithic epitaph!

Lay, did I, 'pon leaves of old
Whilst winters' wind made moan.
Thoughts of you did cross my mind,
Love so rare and far behind.
Ne'er again such bliss to find?
Such bitter tears would hath thee blind.

Dawn breaks without thy sight,
I sleep a thousand years.
And in thy dreams I see a copse
And too, therein a maiden stops
To lie beside an aged corpse
While winters' wind our cradle rocks.