Catie Belle Stark - The Stone Angel

I sit beneath the stone angel,
Her face is hard and grey,
As she stares upon the rows of the mismatched tombstones,
She is the guardian of the cemetery,
She watches over the dead,
Everything that her stone gaze falls upon,
Is filled with awe and respect,

I glace at the surrounding tombstones,
Seeing the wreaths and roses people bought,
And placed upon the beds of the departed,
An offering to God,
To show how much the soul was loved,
Hoping that He will extend that same love to the deceased,
It's a place of quiet and peace,
So still,
So strange,
To know,
That beneath the earth,
Lie people who will never again share their stories.

I ponder what those stories might be,
As I sit beneath the stone angel,
And gaze upon the rows of her children,
I turn my gaze once again,
To her maternal stone face,
I begin to write.

Catie Belle Stark

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-stone-angel/