I stand by the tall, cold stone cross, and then breathe in in the view,
While my mind slowly wanders 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;
Who with such terrible thunder,
Bellow white horses 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 and shears far away
On these damned, 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 are 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.
I’m 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 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 songs.
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 damned storm tossed green seas of Freshwater Bay.