Constance

Poem By Jennifer Jenkins

St. Mary chimes, last breath of day
she kneels aside his box of clay,
snapping nails in soured trench
to join beloved, lost.

A crippled heart; retched moan-
'O bury me where life once shone! '
Memories scorch, blood feels cold
beneath graves' prickly frost.

Kinsmen tear, such misdeed!
Eyes once pearls now pickled beads.
The anguished gaze at foul remains
and cast a wreath in shame.

Now Mary's saplings guard their keep
and leave besotted souls to sleep
through season's mould and fragrant rain
whilst cherry blossom stain.

Comments about Constance

through season's mould and fragrant rain whilst cherry blossom stain .........nice ending to a nice poem


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