Age-old mysteries are now revealed.
Voluptuous hills, silently aware,
young mans fists, his maiden’s sad stare.
The horizons curve kissed by many a 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 skies.
Unseeing , staring are deep hollow eyes.
Two hundred years the ground concealed
An old dead 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 unaware.
Of the young mans fists, his maiden’s sad stare.
QJD – 2007
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