"Tread softly", said he

Beneath the velvet moss-clad mound
He sat and contemplated love and sin.
And merged the two in hidden sound.
His legacy, his body, here lies within.

Laying bare his soul as the winter trees
Who sit solemnly still on that open plain.
Of mysticism and poetry he gives the keys
To all who come through the shroud of rain.

Beneath the dark and bulbous rock
He lived and loved and wrote of such
Words, so full, unlocked.
Here, the grass still feels his touch.

Tread softly said he,
As you tread on his dreams
Tread softly, say we
As thoughtful eyes stream