Oh chalice you hold the purest 

Disguised your milky grey complexion 

Hints of sky blue golden sun 

Creative nature rippling on reflection 

Clear waters run

 carrying with it the sun 

Collecting soil gathering particles of leaf and tree residue 

Slowing the flow of the mineral spring

Giving the porous chalice time to absorb 

It never seems to overflow 

The temperature...

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In Memoriam

The gravestones in this place are wet with tears

Of children, wives and husbands who have stood

Beside dark holes that swallow up their fears

Replacing ice water where once flowed blood.

November skies are grey and hold no lights,

The flowers flattened in a winter gale

That whips away dark thoughts the widow fights

To keep hidden behind her mourning veil.

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