Kilchoman churchyard

FOR the quiet company under these
roofs of cracked flag-stones
no more the glass-bright seas
dance in the hot sun:
no scent of thyme creeps through the mould
nor the bee's warm humming,
unheard the lamb's bleat from the fold—
nor sight nor sound coming.

But the wrecking storms in vain
batter above them
and the chill thin soaking rain
brings no discomfort.
Now no ache for herd or kin
hungered or blighted—
serene in unknowing, gathered in
these lie united.

19 June 1945