Stone wall covered with lichen and moss;

along an old country lane within the briers.

Mushrooms, wild raspberries mark the time;

food for the animals and birds found there.

This place has seen war and strife so harsh

also witnessed good times of plentiful harvest.

The old white farm is gone from across the way,

t’was a fine spot for me to dig a hallowed grave.

Her breathing appeared shallow late in November,

t’was obvious she would not make it to the Spring.

I spent two days with my shovel near the old wall;

giving her a valley view where song birds still sing.

Her stone, a piece of granite with a carved cross;

she’s happy, as she was, with simple things in life.

I visit her each Sunday and put a rose on the rock;

Mother’s Day, an Orchid Pot, I sit with her and talk.


by Ken Allan Dronsfield


Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet and Author originally from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He enjoys the outdoors, playing guitar and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. He is the Co-Editor of the new Poetry Anthology titled, “Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze” available at His published work can be found in Journals, Magazines and Blogs throughout the Web including: Indiana Voice Journal, Belle Reve Journal, Peeking Cat Magazine, Dead Snakes, Bewildering Stories and many others.

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