In A Graveyard
Devoid of flesh here lie some bones,
Beneath the well-worn weathered stones.
Six feet deep in good red clay,
No longer touched by light of day.
A simple life lived to the full,
With some thrills but mainly dull.
And when he passed as he must;
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
For Audenesque his clocks were stopped
The day his clogs were surely popped.
A good husband; father? It matters none;
He breathed his last and now he's gone
But; what of his soul released?
It dwells with God in perfect peace.
Copyright (c) Chris Gallagher