Andrew David Dalby
I stand by the cold stone cross,
to then breathe in in the view;
While my mind slowly wander's,
towards visions of you...
Yet, this bitter east wind,
with its steel coloured hues,
forces your image to fade and unglue.
The wind whips the tufts of soft grass,
and the gnarled hunched stunted trees,
Shaping their tawny fingered limbs,
with such terrible ease.
while to my left,
and below at my feet;
I see the craggy, grey cliffs,
and the wind ridden seas;
That, with such terrible thunder,
bellow as they meet.
So I shut my eyes tight,
and long for you here;
To catch just a small glimpse,
Of the mere ghost of tear.
But time… like our lives…
slips to a loud smash
and echoes within me to say:
damn these storm tossed green seas,
around Freshwater Bay!
The painful words within
never seem to want to have an end.
For I thought that you
were my forever friend.
I thought that meant here,
I thought that meant now,
But now is all but ashes;
and leaves me riddled with doubt.
I long to reach out,
I beg you to hear,
But my words fade away
With a cold winter tear.
Im left all alone,
With my thoughts and my fears;
Oh how I wish to Christ
That you would appear.
but without me all is muted,
and my slated tongue is clay;
my voice drowned by the roaring
of the wind in grass and the trees!
and these damned storm tossed green seas,
around Freshwater bay!
To a mother and a son,
To a brother and a sister
To a loving dear father
The old and the young...
to the wars and the cost,
to the the terror and the pain!
To the joy and the laughter
that we do over and over and over again.
We reach out... we touch...
we embrace and then we are gone...
To leave nothing but memories
Of our tender love song.
I think of our years
The laughter, the joy,
And then come the tears
from your 'dear sweet boy'.
I then turn open the urn
To the cold bitter breeze
to watch you take form
and see you dance free.
For moment your there,
Then you whisper away,
above the storm tossed green seas
of Freshwater Bay.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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