St. George’s Cemetery, Bermuda
Near white sand beach,
inside the old church yard,
I stand watchful guard over
earthly body of departed child;
another angel, in human form,
who visited briefly here to be
caught in a rapid blue riptide.
I can only offer marble blooms
and silent stony vigilance.
Come visit the small grave
and cry on my empty arm,
broken from reaching; touch
my clipped wing, fractured
by gathered years of sorrow.
But even as heaven’s stars
gaze, I know the sweet spirit
has taken flight, like red scent
of hibiscus on ocean breeze.
Link to dVerse Poets Pub where Lillian is hosting a “chiseled conversation”…the photograph above is hers!
a poem in my pocket 
Jun 19, 2016 @ 21:09:46
Lovely …
Jun 17, 2016 @ 15:08:38
Oh, man. This aches, and aches DEEP:
“broken from reaching”
I am so deeply, deeply touched by this line. Goodness. Sometimes, aren’t we all just that?
Jun 17, 2016 @ 17:07:22
Yes, helplessly reaching…
Jun 17, 2016 @ 10:54:00
That is so beautiful Lynn…. Diane
Jun 17, 2016 @ 11:47:27
Thanks, Diane!
Jun 17, 2016 @ 09:41:08
Absolutely stunning.
“I can only offer marble blooms
and silent stony vigilance.”
This stood out to me but every line speaks so gently and eloquently of loss, protection and spirit.
Jun 17, 2016 @ 10:34:18
I appreciate your comment, Mish.