Age-old mysteries are now revealed.
Voluptuous hills, silently aware,
young mans fists, his maiden’s sad stare.
The horizons curve kissed a manic sun.
Young soulful eyes upturned should have run.
The pottery chard’s broken and shattered
Earth rows upturned, bones now scattered.
As the plough turns earth to morn full skies.
Unseeing , staring are deep hollow eyes.
Two hundred years the ground concealed.
Old dead young mans secret is now revealed.
Her bones are broken and brutally battered,
Her name was Marie – not that it mattered.
As the plough mans course is still unaware.
Of the young mans fists, his maiden’s sad stare.
QJD – 2007
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