A poem for an old pioneer

                              A POEM FOR AN OLD PIONEER
  I was driving along this lonely highway, far from any cities, and a raven sitting on a white tombstone caught my eye.  The white stone is the only stone in this little plot, about 50 X 100 ft.    It is miles from anything and surrounded by farm fields.  When I drove by I thought this must have a poem.  I had never written a poem in my life but felt I had to try and below is the result.
      Since I had never written a poem, I would like to put this on WDC and see what experienced poets can come up with about this solitary white tombstone in an old burial plot with a raven sitting on that stone.  Not much is known about this plot, it was registered as a burial plot in the 1890’s, abandoned for years and now has been maintained the last 5 or 6 years.  By who no one seems to know but it is well kept up.  So, we also have a mystery here and I will try to find out what the story of this plot is as I get up that way 2 or 3 times a year.  A photo follows but I do not know if it will transmit.  This is my first item on WDC

                    THE RAVEN ON THE STONE
                                                        By: Lee
        Yonder sits a Raven, but not of Poe’s lament,
        This ones life has a different bent.

        He is sitting on this one and only stone
        in this small but well tended plot.
        Why he is here I know not.

        I would not have noticed him in my flight
        But for this black raven on the stone of white.

      What weary pilgrim lies beneath this spot, lying here alone?
      We know not the name carved upon the stone.

      Is this some old pioneer who lies here in peaceful rest? 
      His loved ones would know this best.

      But for sure it was someone near and dear,
      to have lain in this well kept spot for many a year.

      While the tears for this soul have dried, the memory has not,
      as someone comes to carefully tend this tiny plot. 

        The grass is mowed, the fence in perfect place,
      as someone dearly cares for this loved ones space.

      Tell me, raven, why do you guard this spot, so far from any other    place,
      Besides this highway 64 along which the cars race?

    Quote the raven, "I sit on this white stone in this stoic pose
    to remind passers by that under this sod they too shall repose.”

  And to tell you to make the most of the time you have here,
  Before it descends into dust the body you hold dear   

    Also to tell you to live your life without reproach
    is why I sit on this stony perch,
   
    Quote the Raven, evermore.