Greenery carpets rolling hills
that rise beyond the river.
This hidden slice of verdant peace
– a warm and welcoming giver
Visual wonder stands astride
its history and its spirit,
Many a soul has tarried here;
yet some have come to fear it.
I walk the path that winds along,
and through the ancient trees.
Bearing the voices of those who came
to render final pleas.
This scene awash in summer’s glow
betrays a darker shade.
The march of those who lost their all
and those who’d been betrayed.
I walk the last mile down the hill
to where my dearest lies.
Serenely down there in the dell,
which gaudy day belies.
Past the willow to the place
where grievers come to wail.
Relaxed, I pause, a parting sigh,
and peer behind the veil.