Grave Stone Poem by William McGehee

What long and silent vigils we keep.
Through pleasent spring and in the summer heat.
We stand amid the fallen leaves in heaps
Then even bear the coldest winter's sleet.
We watch each tear, hear every mournful phrase
So somber they do a lay before our feet,
Those who've run their course out to their end of days,
Only to pray one day again to meet.


In turn the mourners so become the morned
Each as fleating as any shoot of wheat.
But we endure and so see man kind bourn
From Earth to stand before the Mercy seat.
Comfort we give to those who have to stay.
Until in turn time crumbles us away.