This is A Cemetery
Georgina McCrae
Lives are
commemorated - deaths are recorded
families are reunited – memories
are made tangible - and love is undisguised.
This is a cemetery.
Communities accord
respect, families bestow
reverence, historians seek information
and our heritage is thereby enriched.
Testimonies of
devotion, pride and remembrance
are carved in stone to pay warm
tribute to accomplishments and to the
life - not death - of a loved one.
The cemetery is
homeland for family memorials
that are a sustaining source of comfort
to the living.
A cemetery is a
history of people - a perpetual
record of yesterday and a sanctuary
of peace and quiet today. A cemetery
exists because every life is worth loving
and remembering - always.
If Tomorrow Starts Without Me
Roma Waldron September 2009
("I was thinking of the thousands of people who have died and buried in South
Brisbane... what they would think if they could talk to
the ones they left behind")
If tomorrow starts without me, and I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes, all filled with tears for me;
I wish so much you wouldn't cry, the way you did today,
While thinking of the many things, We didn't get to say.
I know how much you love me, as much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me, I know you'll miss me too;
But when tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name, and took me by the hand,
she said my place was ready, in heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind, all those I dearly love.
But as I turned to walk away,a tear fell from my eye,
For all my life, I'd always thought, I didn't want to die.
I had so much to live for, so much left yet to do,
It seemed almost impossible, that I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays, the good ones and the bad,
I thought of all that we shared, and all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday, just even for a while,
I'd say good-bye and kiss you and maybe see you smile.
But then I fully realized, that this could never be,
For emptiness and memories, would take the place of me.
And when I thought of worldly things, I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did, my heart was filled with sorrow.
But when I walked through heaven's gates, I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me from his great golden throne,
He said, "This is eternity, and all I've promised you.
Today your life on earth is past, but here life starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last,
And since each day's the same way, there's no longing for the past.
You have been so faithful, so trusting and so true.
Though there were times you did some things, you knew you shouldn't do.
But you have been forgiven, and now at last you're free.
So won't you come and take my hand, and share your life with me?
So when tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me, I'm right here, in your heart.
Roma Waldron September 2009
("I was thinking of the thousands of people who have died and buried in South
Brisbane... what they would think if they could talk to
the ones they left behind")
The Angels they are Angry
Roma Waldron
The angels are so angry as they look on council cemeteries
Their resting places filthy, caused by debris from the trees.
Why won’t the council do their job, and get the mess cleaned right away
For they’re the ones responsible, they let it get this way
They say it is the families, who must attend the grave
But for them to a step onto a path, they have to be real brave.
The litter lies so thickly and hides many dangers underneath
The families can’t get close enough, they can’t even place a wreath.
Trees are growing in the graves what on earth is that about
Why don’t you get a nice sharp axe and cut the beggars out.
If I can prove that it is second growth, what a stupid thing you say
Did you dig a great big hole, while the tree stood in your way
Why don’t you use your commonsense, and have a bit of pride
Clean up these final resting places, or have you got something you must hide
Wake up you lazy councilors, there’s a job that must be done
Or are you just afraid of work, that’s not how votes are won.
You say there is no money, for such a menial task
what if your Mum was lying there, I wonder what you’d ask.
When you took on this well paid job, what was on your mind
Certainly not to clean it up, It seems that you went blind.
Councilors now I tell you, we taxpayers pay your wages
why can’t you do the job you’re paid, even if it is in stages.
It won’t take us very long to vote another way
Get on and do your bloody job, don’t wait another day.
The Angels they are Crying
Roma Waldron November 2006
The angels they are crying, as they look down on Dutton Park.
All their hearts are broken, their final resting place unmarked.
When they lived upon the earth, they worked so very hard
To make our Brisbane beautiful, like a pretty picture card.
The years rolled by so quickly, then slowly one by one
They went to meet their maker, a million miles above the sun.
Believing they would rest in peace, in this scared hallowed ground
their families said their last goodbyes, not knowing what would be found
The council decides to build a bridge, and so the plans are made
With the resting souls forgotten, lying there beneath the shade
Bike paths and walkways are now the order of the day
The workmen they just don’t know, where these poor souls do lay.
Two ladies go to visit and are shocked at what they see
Many graves have disappeared, they wonder where on earth they be
This bike and pathway must be stopped, they cannot build it here
Not on top of bodies, but that is what we fear
Dear Anna we are begging you, make them stop this crazyness
We know how much you really care, we hope that you will stop this mess
The angels they are crying, as they look down on Dutton Park
Let’s change their tears to laughter, and make it happy in the park
The Angels they are Smiling
Roma Waldron September 2007
The Angels they are smiling, they’re as happy as can be
Their resting places now are clean, as clean as they should be.
Twas many years they waited, for someone to clean their graves
But no-one ever came along, no-one seemed to care.
Dead tree branches, dirt and leaves, lay just everywhere,
The cemetery was a sad disgrace, but the council didn’t care
Then one day 2 ladies came, they were so disgusted,
at the sight of such neglect, the council’s heads they would’ve busted
Roma and friend Tracey, called a meeting, a serious talk to have
They called upon the council, but were told to go away.
The Friends of South Brisbane, they proudly named their group
Again they called the council, and introduced their fighting troop
The cemetery was not important, according to the man in charge
This made the ladies angry, so war was then declared
They would fight for Dutton Park, no matter what it took
They would make the council care, and also write a book
It wasn’t very long before, 2 more ladies joined the gang
Marilyn & Annie, agreed this council they should hang
For many months the angels watched, as four ladies worked like beavers
Cleaning all the many graves, that lay covered deep in dirt & leaves
Dead tree branches lay everywhere, but the girls they didn’t flinch
The council tried hard to stop them, but they refused to give an inch.
Many graves had disappeared, by the council’s dirty hand
Just dumped into the river, like garbage in a can
To change it to a great big park, was the councils aim
This made the ladies angry, they’d spoil their evil game
Roma and friend Tracey, gave council problems by the score
twas the dear departed the girls were fighting for
The friends they were determined, the battle they would win
It wasn’t all that long before, the council decided to give in
The Angels now are smiling, their hearts are filled with glee
Finally their graves are clean, as clean as they should be.
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