Here you will find the Poem Man into a Churchyard of poet Bernard Gutteridge
He comes unknown and heard and stands there Breathes there hardly and hands grip Flesh and walking stick. Skips over mounds To land flat footed in a bowl of roses. Flicks at the crazy gravestones Spitting loud desires wood crosses for himself: Heaves them up with laughter to hang them, Dangling on the atheist's fig tree. Handsprings through the open door, Signs with a swastika on the visitors' book And goes through the shut iron gate With a pansy in his buttonhole.