Poetry

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IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT THE LANE'S IN SIGHT,FROM THE TOP TOO DOWN
BELOW OLD STONE WALL'S SAW TIME'S OWN FALL'S,WHERE MORTAR PERISHED
THAT THE STONE'S ONCE CHERISHED,THROUGH FROST AND RAIN THEY COULD
ACCLAIM,WE ARE STANDING STILL BY CRAFTSMEN'S WIT THEY DID THEM FIT,
AND FAMILIES KNEW THE STONE'S ARE TRUE KEPT ALL WANT AND TROUBLE
OUT,IN SILENT SLEEP SOME HIDE AWAY AS INSIDE DOOR'S THEY STAY,THEY
KEEP ON LIVING SOME SAY THEY ARE DEAD,TAKE A LOOK INSTEAD THESE
STONE'S ARE WED,THEY ALSO KNOW HOW WEATHER'S FLED THEIR STONY
FACES HAVE SERVED GOD'S OWN HUMAN RACE'S,SHOULD TIME DECLINE WE
STAY IN LINE,WE DO NOT DIE GOD SHOW'S US WHY WE STONES DON'T LIE,
STONE'S MAY BE SOME;WE STAND QUITE PLUMB.
Joe.

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