Nobody's Home (Poetry)

You think they’re in the graveyard
when you take the flowers round
you think they’re sleeping peacefully
beneath the frosty ground

Imagining them lying there
you never think to glance
upwards into heaven’s dome
where Christmas spirits dance

For they are free from earthly care
and celebrate the day
rejoicing in their happy throng
the good old-fashioned way

They do not grieve for times long past
nor things they have not done
but are content to journey down
some road to kingdom come

Fond memories like postcards sent
remind you of each face
but they’ve left the graveyard one and all
to find a better place

They are not there — nobody’s home
the party’s somewhere else
and frost will kill the flowers so
best keep them for yourself