The flowers lay upon the lawn
A tribute on each sad bouquet,
The fond farewells and blessings
To a loved one who had died,
The white carnations spelled her name
Across the grass on which they stood,
While relatives all dressed in black
Were standing side by side.
Along the path unto her door
'Twas fitting now that it was locked,
It once was always open
To a kind and welcome friend,
The curtains closed the windows shut
From whence she used to sit and stare,
And watch the days go drifting by
Until her life did end.
As weeds within the borders grew
Within the garden that she loved,
And used to tend with pride and joy
Until she grew too old,
And had to watch it slowly fade
That brought such pain into her heart,
For how she used to love the spring
Emerging from the cold.
And as the hearse drew up outside
They wiped away their hollow tears,
For they had seldom seen her
Till the day she breathed her last,
She'd prayed for them each lonely night
And yet her love was not returned,
But at the reading of the will
They wept that she had passed.
ANDREW BLAKEMORE
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flowers-lay-upon-the-lawn/
