A nonet
At rest. After much suffering, rest.
Sadly missed. In the midst of life
we are in death. Satisfied
when I awake with thy
likeness. Wife of the
above. Not gone
from love. Thy
will be
done.
I missed a trick yesterday. Having collected all those different length sentiments from gravestones in Histon Road Cemetery, the world was my oyster in terms of (smaller) poetic forms. Instead I banged out this free verse. So here’s a nonet from the same material to make up for it. Submitted by Gabriel Smy.
Verbatim Poetry 