The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests
So brilliant is the sun it seems new born
In the shady green I take my rest
The art of living cannot be a test
Nor can it leave a lover all forlorn
The first warm days, the birds sing in their nests
When surprised by joy, we regain zest
Despite the costs of living and its storms
In the shady green let’s take a rest
Before he died, he sat,he gazed out West
Even in the rain, light gave him joy
The bright, warm days, the birds sing in their nests
I remember Arnside, green and blessed
The hills across the bay where we have climbed
In the shady green let’s dream and rest
In our childhood there the patterns form
Hope to harvest now the rich, ripe corn
The clear blue days, the birds keep warm their nest
In the shades of Arnside let me rest
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To fulminate against the hands of fate
To vent our anger on beloved friends
Will not repair our ills and our mistakes
But may bring friendships to a bitter end.
For who are we to know what is the best?
Who are we to choose when loved ones die?
And do not think this is a needed test.
As if on us God wastes his time to spy.
Once we were a joining of two cells
The lively sperm, a salmon riding high.
The egg awaiting without need for bells
Is fertilised and grows that which shall die.
Astonishing that we should live at all.
Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.
How my heart speaks 