The rain soaked dust is rising like a mist.

The rain soaked dust is rising like a mist
As in Port Meadow,Oxford riverside
The sun returns and takes it in a kiss.

The open spaces offer us real bliss
Where truly God  or holiness reside.
The rain soaked dust is rising like a mist

Yet when  we have the time do we resist;
Ignore the need to go where love abides?
The sun returns and offers us  a kiss.

The damage from the News give hearts a twist
Our dreams   may splinter, though we’re side by side
The rain soaked dust is rising like a mist

Do we know the life that we have missed
Taking in the media though we sigh?
The sun  shines brightly over  this abyss.

What is it  we do until we die
Breathing in the solitude awry?
The rain soaked dust is rising like a mist.
The sun returns and warms the iron fist