At Tower Hill Cemetery Poem by Francis Duggan

At Tower Hill Cemetery



Trucks, buses and cars passing on the highway
But they do not hear any noise where they lay
And their eyes that see Nature's beauty closed to light of day
In Tower Hill Cemetery under the earth and clay

Some of them lived to die old and some died young in years
And by friends and by families were farewelled in tears
In Koroit and surrounds where from children to adults they had grown
Many of them had lived and were well loved and well known

With death we all have an appointment to keep
But the dead never hear those who for them do weep
For many of the living the thoughts consoling good souls have wings to fly
To a better World somewhere beyond the sky

The praises of the socalled successful the living may sing
But a visit to a cemetery can be quite a humbling thing
Whether you are wealthy and successful or live in poverty
Death is a reality for you and for me

In Tower Hill Cemeterya few hectares of ground
By the concrete pathways the headstones in numbers abound
Where some of the dead of the Moyne Shire do lay
Ears deaf to the traffic noise on the Prince's Highway.

Wednesday, January 2, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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