His presence was  a comfort,laughter-lit

His absence left an empty open cut
Where was my blood that should have made a crust?
The weeping wound must heal from bottom up

The healing force is life and others’ love
Those who touch us gently without lust
His absence still an empty open cut

Slowly cells harmonious in this rut
Do their work and live as all things must
The weeping wound can heal from bottom up

Meanwhile my immunity has guts
Keeping off bacteria and dust
In his absence now a hollow slit

Tears fly horizontal,eyes are shut
Time goes slow and heavy weights oppress
The weeping wound shall heal if I have grit

Bring me wild flowers from the Clevelands plucked
Give me nectar where the wild bees suck
His presence was a comfort,laughter-lit
The wound heals and the love will never stop

We stayed with his family from where we hitched a lift in a lorry to the Cleveland Hills.We walked out in the sun and lay in some bee filled heather.We didn’t realise we were very near a steep cliff as this end of the North Yotkshire Moors crashes into the valley of the mighty Tees [recall High Force],Alas industry altered the lower end of the river as we all know the force of such rivers was used to drive water mills and other mechanical developments.

Wounds

I had an operation on my arm a few months ago and the wound opened after the stitches were removed… then a nurse said: it will have to heal from the bottom up…. that’s how I though of it.They tried sticky strips but they were no good as it was near my elbow so it was a hard place to heal with the movement of my arm affecting it

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