Jailed for a crime he did not commit,
to a grim sentence he was forced to submit.
The judge said “hang him high”,
and with that she let out a silent cry.
He found her eyes, he didn’t have to search,
Silently pleading, “Meet me at the church”.
A jailbreak had been planned,
though the place was well manned.
A risk worth taking,
a run worth making,
nothing left to lose,
a distraction and a lit fuse.
“Run away with me,
somewhere we can be free,
across the border we could go,
what will happen next, only God knows.”
Scared but in love, her stomach gave a lurch
when he begged her, “Meet me at the church.”
Waiting behind the church,
under an old white birch,
She was ready to go with him,
though she knew their chances were slim.
Shots pierced the night,
he’d go down with a fight.
She held her breath and prayed.
For the risk, a price he paid.
She whispered under that old birch,
“Meet me at the church.”
Dressed in his Sunday best,
They laid him to rest
in the church cemetery,
an eternal sanctuary.
The only one to cry,
as she said goodbye
she whispered, “Meet me at the church.”
They found her on his grave the next day,
there was nothing left to say
except for the note in her hand:
“lay my body to rest beside this man.
I couldn’t have him in life, give him to me in death,
I’ll love him long past my last breath.”
They laid her to rest beside him,
Read scripture and sang a hymn.
A dove sat watching from its perch,
On the breeze a whisper, “I met you at the church.”
~ By Liz Austin 2018
Born and raised in Upstate NY, Liz is a freelance writer. She has written for websites, blogs, and magazines for the last 10 years. She works as a freelance writer and editor, as well as a proofreader and beta reader for several authors, all the while working on her first book.