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By Paddy Mulhern
She moves among the gravestones,
Pausing here and there,
To scratch a lichen covered name
Or say a silent prayer.
Her body bowed, her features carved,
By life’s long turning mill,
The one she loved is long with God
Bur her love is burning still.
The perfume from the rose she holds
Mingles with her grief,
She lays it down on the sacred ground
Gently as a falling leaf.
This is where the silence comes
To escape the frenzied day,
Dying echo of the funeral bell
Fading finally away.
Beyond this silence there’s a world
Of peace and eternal rest,
She kneels alone beside a stone,
A reverential guest.
No longer questions death nor life,
There’s no answer in the loam,
But prays for mercy on the living,
Trusting the dead are safely home.