CROSS AFTER CROSS
 

 
 
Cross after cross after cross,
Stark and white and clean,
Row after row after row,
On a cushion of velvet green.
 
Sweet breezes blow and ruffle the grass,
Just as a hand in a young man's hair,
They both protest with gentleness,
Though pleased by the soft ripple there.
 
A squirrel scoots through the hallowed place,
Like a hurried brush on a cheek,
Then it stops still for a moment,
When it seems to find what it seeks.
 
Coy chipmunks skitter near by,
And bunnies hop on the ground,
They make one think of soft teddy bears,
Once held in small boys' arms.
 
The leaves blowing down from the trees
Form blankets that warm through the night,
Which snugly tuck the weary souls in,
As they're calmed and eased of their fright.
 
Snowfall brings the beauty of winter,
Tiny icicles hang from each cross,
They melt like tears, as Christmas nears,
Along with memories of Santa Claus.
 
Flowers in spring - good reason to sing,
But no lilting sounds in this air,
March winds so strong, they sing their own song,
Which is lusty, raucous, and bare.
 
At night, a silence too loud to hear,
And a calmness too still for peace,
Then whispers are heard as if in a dream,
From souls who are gone and deceased.
 
Sleep on, fallen comrades,
You have earned your just rest,
Please know that your souls,
By the good Lord are blest.
 
On a cross just like yours
His own precious Son died,
How honored you are
To now sit by His side..
 
Cross after cross after cross,
Stark and white and clean,
Row after row after row,
On a cushion of velvet green.
 
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright May 2003 ~ Revised May 2009
 


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