Intertwinement

In a grave yard, in a church yard, sits an aged, dark tomb
A repository for the lifeless, an inanimate solemn womb
Its inhabitants are a smattering, you might say a few
A man and a woman who once were twenty…plus two

This young gentlemen for his years, had seen much of life
Had been exposed to much grief and internal strife
When a child cried in pain or a beast moaned in sorrow
He’d squeeze shut eyes and ears, and pray for tomorrow

‘Til one day on a lonely road walking in a chill wind
He met a girl with raven hair and introduced as Rosalind
‘Twas like a burden had been lifted for a brief, precious time
For in the company of Rosalind he doth felt much sublime

‘Twas not long, before they, both stood before Priest
And after simple ceremony they quick retired to humble feast
They lived each day as two leaves intertwined in the wind
A young man who’d learned to smile in the glory of Rosalind

But ill-fortune has a knack of shadowing the poor yet glad
As when black clouds foretold of days that would be baneful bad
On the air, arrived the plague and its companion so named death
And the man, who’d learned to smile, soon drew in his final breath

One day from whence he died came a special delivery post
He was heir to a fortune so bestowed him by a passing remorseful ghost
Rosalind, forlorn Rosie, sat alone, in their meager sitting room
And devised to spend the money on a private marble tomb

Her beloved was kept on ice as construction was hurried through
And on the day of the internment she knew exactly what she must do
Funeral proceedings, like their wedding, were a quiet, austere affair
Rosalind, dressed in black a pair of red leaves in Raven’s hair

Before the casket, that held her world, was so closed, she doth linger
To place two leaves on dead man clothes between waxen, ashen fingers
Then she walked home, made preparations for the path she must follow
And whilst holding, two leaves in hand, ‘twas a poison she did swallow

That was many years ago, the tomb’s now home to ant and spider
And to a tender, fragile girl and the “leaf” that lay beside her
Sometimes, on frigid nights, two leaves cling, together, in the wind
And with mine ear, I faintly hear, a voice calling…Rosalind

Rosalind, was sick at heart, was moribund, could not stop weeping
And she cried, rivers of tears, while wide awake or even sleeping