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
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?
How my heart sings 