Heptonstall churchyard

Some bizarre twist of fate brought me here
to this place, this grave of woman’s weeping
The day was sunny, the blossom swayed
lent its perfume to the moor land wind
but by the church,
great gusts carried my breath away
tangled my hair, blew my skirt above my knees
I don’t know why I came at all
I was out for pleasure, to see the countryside
look for somewhere new to hang my hat
The church tower looked fierce
frowned, as I trod the cobbles
the narrow streets
searched the tipsy grave stones
that leaned port side in the
early summer’s howl
I had to ask of course
“Many visitors come,” he said
then pointed, told me
where the woman lay
But today, there was only me
pacing up and down the ranks
inspecting, looking for the poet
whose petals bloomed in fiercest flames
I found the plot at last
and tears erupted, spilled
upon her flowered bed
and as I cried, the church bell tolled
Three times.

sally james

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