Close to the church doorway

St. Mary’s, Harrow-on-the-Hill

Graves dot the steep hillside

Souls we never knew

If only they could stand

Look out beyond where they lay

To the vistas of Harrow Weald

For 1000 years from this citadel

If only they could hear each other

And dance in memorial shadows

Bluebells and forget-me-nots

Gathered around their stones

Robins, finches and sparrows sang

 As the sun crept over the horizon

A tethered cross leans by the chapel wall

Where stained glass figures look on.

Remembering, in the early morning light

A man stands quietly, cups an ear, listens

Says, ‘spread your wings, the angels call’

Places precious flowers on the new grave

 © Christopher 2023 

The young Byron sat on a tomb at St. Mary’s to write his poetry.
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5 Responses to Memory

    1. Nice poem Chris.

      Comment by Anna Meryt on 20 May, 2023 at 7:53 am
    2. Very profound . It really places you in the scene. A great poem to capture a moment known to all at some stage of their life Christopher!

      Comment by Ivonne Hawarth on 20 May, 2023 at 8:27 am
    3. Evocative of a peaceful spot in Metroland!

      Comment by Conrad on 21 May, 2023 at 10:50 am
    4. Congratulations Chris! Lovely poem! Anne

      Comment by Anne Hutton on 26 May, 2023 at 7:07 am
    5. Hello Christopher, how lovely to find you here (feigns surprise)!
      To borrow from Moorcock: The Dancers At The End Of Time? I can see them dancing now.
      Hope to see you again soon.

      Comment by Larry on 17 June, 2023 at 6:03 pm

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