Caught upon the wind blowning free,
rolling patterns run through the heather.
away down the fell, a rivers edge
together lay young lovers
. Into the shadows then retreat
. beneath those girders massive
. secluded passions rattle accompanyment
. at Forth's Bridge windblown narrative
And waiting patient as tide recedes
watching feeding curlew scour and wade
aside sand-drenched causeway o'er to Lindisfarne
torn from Northumberland's chaste brocade.
. Then hasten to the city's roar
. St Anthony's, Walker, Byker, Tyne
. where mighty industry tore working mens life
. now solace waits at the water line
So away home now with such memories
to cotswold stone and soft green valleys
where we play at trains for weekends of fun
Our southern grit - for southern sons
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: June 2nd, 2019 01:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments4
Wonderful words d a, wonderful memories for me as well.
The furthest north I travelled was to the Lake District. A pleasant memory etched forever.
Poetically ascribed your memories here
Ahhhhh DA the further NORTH one goes in the UK~ the more TRUE GRIT one encounters. Lancastrians & Men of YORK ~ Men of Oak not Southern Saplings ! Then one encounters the Scots ~ Comando under the KILT & everready for ACTION ! Haggis fed with Sword & Dirk ~ Kill first and then ask questions aftearwards ! They are ALREADY INDEPENDENT from the effete Southerners ~ South od BRUM ! LIVERPOOL v TOTTENHAM (LONDON) ~ no contest !
Blessing & Peace
Yours Angela & Brian 🧡🧡🧡🧡
LOL you noticed then.
almost a magnificent poem my friend and true... these words bring a lump to this readers throat.... Neville
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