Cleveland Hills

Lying in the heather with you,love
The world below,the cliff edge of the hills
Swainby,Stokesley, Stockton,Saltburn sea
Happy, free, still unaware of bills

The butterflies, the little flower bells
The scent of honey and the Yorkshire bees
I see your face as clear as it was then
But you have crossed the Styx and not the Tees

Yet still I feel your arms that held me near
I see you smile , so happy to be wed
We hitched a lift right to Osmotherly
The entire hill seemed like a marriage bed

There is a place where that sweet day exists
I take your hands and kiss your inner wrists

We don’t know

Photo by Tejas Prajapati on Pexels.com

When the pain of grief and rage abate
We grieve again,more conscious of our state
The sharpness of the anguish was a cloak
That made the world of others seem remote

Now like a shadow come back from the dark
We feel what we have missed, the vital spark
We see a broader view, we see we’re small
And little seems of interest,nothing calls

We wander on through mud and sharp thorned briar
Scarcely hearing wild birds in their choir
Giving up the one we lost, we seek,
An open heart, remembrance and peace

Thus layer by layer we grieve and we don’t know
Is there a fine ending to this Show?