I wish we were in Silverdale again

The meadow full of flowers,the nettle’s sting

The boarding house,the hedges rich with song..

The sketch pad,ink, the birthday pen

I miss m

My brother’s humour and his wacky games

I miss his buoyant face, his eyes untamed

At least he’s not in prison doing time.

I liked the way he misprounced my name.

I wish we were on Windermere today

The bouncing sun,the blossoms rich display

Come back now I love you anyway

My heart was stabbed with death,you went away

I saw your shadow cycling in black rain.

May we help each other with the pain?

I welcome comments and criticism

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