Toys, mugs and letters dress this stoney garden

In lines that would not impress a cold, gnarled sargent

 

Stones stagger around like crooked teeth

Adorned with names, chocolates and festive wreaths

The view is long, sprawling forever

Lost but knowing in its endevour

 

The living are still, smiling through their solemness 

Clutching Birthday cards with Christmas sadness

Your names are etched in our minds

As are our faites ever entwined

 

Silence dwells in the warm distance

Yet cold in the heart for this instance

 

In this stoney garden, standing alone or together,

remembering you will be forever.