Tag Archives: execution

No Grace Forlorn

Even on this bitter and cold morn, their is bird song.

The little brook rolls and gurgles and babbles along.

Sunlight, but darkness for me will come before long.

I turn my face to the blue sky, for to air I will belong.


My body is torn, broken, but I stand now so proud.

I am in the hands of my enemies, an invading shroud.

I did not break. I did not give in. I said no name aloud.

I don not feel their eyes, or the angry sniggers of the crowd.


A teetering, improvised gallows, the pull the noose down.

I think of the haunted forests, and family, in my little town.

They offer pardon, they offer relief, if I give names, breakdown.

I say: “You will know their names when they snatch your crown.”


And I hear a bird sing, high and clear in the cold morn.

I know in spring the war will rage, as animals are born.

I close my eyes, I have been strong, my true face so worn.

Drop and snap, darkness claims me, no grace forlorn.

Walled Garden

A crack in the tenemant wall

I would disappear through,

come to this walled in garden

and play all day with you.

So many games and adventures to play

down by the cool waters.

Sitting hand in hand with you,

one of the Tsar’s many daughters.

The sun was honey in your hair

and the glimmer in your eye.

With you all was well,

I never had any need to cry.

As the sun fell I’d kiss your cheek

and go back through the wall

to the angry words and harsh things,

the corruption that held that life in thrall.

But I’d always return to you again,

and we grew as angels in the light.

Without a thought we’d nap in the sun,

as I held you so close and tight.

Yet even in our walled garden time did pass

and soldier’s of red did come.

Forced to know of he forbidden tree we were

by their cruelty’s bitter sum.

But I held close to you, I stayed near,

as the rifles were fired.

For being with you in the garden

had been all I ever desired.