Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son
They lived up in the hills.
When he went to tend his sheep
He gazed down on cotton mills.
The rivers ran with water pure
And so provided power
Yet over these dark ruined towns
The heathered hills did tower.
Mary was a local girl
She walked out on the moors
She wore a dress of silky cloth
Decorated with wild flowers.
John Joe saw Mary dear
When he was dipping sheep
She peered over a dry stone wall
And saw the new lambs leap.
Her hair was long.Her hair was gold
Her eyes singularly blue.
In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair,
What was a man to do?
He watched her walking all alone
Was she sad or sick?
He showed her how his dog behaved
He showed her shepherds’ tricks.
Then one day,he held her hand
As they walked to the Pike.
They stood up there and gazed all round
So John thought he would strike.
He bent down on his right knee
And spoke to Mary then.
I’ve loved you ,Mary, since we met
I hoped we’d meet again
Mary smiled with her blue eyes;
Her lips were pink and bright.
I love you too and love the hills
And. love the summer light.
The next year they were married
Mary wore white lace.
She looked so happy then
To know she’d her own place.
The church bells rang,the people sang
John and Mary wed!
And naturally, when evening came,
At last they went to bed.
When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms
She knew this was her home.
And so for many. many years
On those loved hills they roamed.
They cared for sheep and hens and goats
They cared for children three.
They never had a falling out
But talked beneath a tree.
From youth to age the years went by
But John still loved his bride.
And Mary too was happy
With John Joe by her side.
Their faces,lined, were full of cheer
Their hair as white as snow
And everywhere that JJ went
Mary too did go.
Until the day came for his death,
He lay down in the grass.
Mary ran and held him close
And thus dear John did pass.
The muffled bells rang from the tower
John Joe was carried in.
The parson prayed and hymns were sung.
The sheep dog made a din.
In the dark earth John was laid
While Mary wept and cried.
What will I do , my my lover John ,
without you by my side?
Mary grieved and wept and sighed
And thus she spent some years…
The loss was great and bent her back
with the weight of care.
When we open up our hearts
We feel both joy and woe.
This is the pattern of our love,
Which like a river flow
One thought on “Which like the river flows”