There is a swing in the graveyard.

by McCollonough Ceili
(Ireland and the USA)

There is a swing in the grave yard because you passed away,
There is a swing in the grave yard where your body does lay.
There is a swing in the grave yard with one red rose,
There is a swing in the grave yard holding pain only a parent knows.
There is a swing in the grave yard carved out of stone,
There is a swing in the grave yard your body's final home.

I hope you are now swinging on a stream of moonlight
and watching us from heaven tonight.

Disclaimer: This poem may be published and or reproduced in any fashioned that is needed for the comfort of grieving family members and parents. All we ask is that you give credit to the author (McCollonough Ceili) and share this poem with all you know who have felt the pain of losing a child.

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