An Elegy For Myself
Late September sun is mellow
Can see the peonies smile,
The grass-blades are turning yellow
They've weathered the summer's guile.
Dusk ushers reminiscences old
And fragrance of jasmine sweet,
I hark to the winds that behold
A canary's lulling tweet.
Twilight hovers upon a clue
That nocturne is not too far,
Daylight has fled into the blue
To embrace the evening star.
This cemetery my home to be
It's beauty a piece of art,
Deep silence like sweet lullaby
Borrowed from a mother's heart.
My headstone stands where shadows throng
Epitaph a silent plea -
‘Do prepare for a journey long
It is here that you have to be'.
The inmates here all dead and furled
Are all of a motley kind,
Glad its not like the mortal world
Where I always trailed behind.
Being here is sheer providence
Know this my beloved dear,
Would've long changed my residence
Had I known the blessings here.
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