Mother would have wanted us...
Wanted us to enjoy ourselves
At the ‘Grand’ at Tynemouth,
View of an impenetrable sea;
Rolling and rolling over time,
With the vast stretch of sands...
Sands that stretch like memories,
And the wind blows Softly, gentle;
Caressing the crumbling Priory.
Tears of the daughter caught;
Through moments of peace.
Sun warming cold skin in May,
And the presence of my mother
As mourners speak with joy...
Familiar faces around the grave,
The mother of my birth lies still,
Expanding heart; it’s all love
From beginning to the end.
All Rights Reserved & Copyright: David John Drew, April 2023
No comments:
Post a Comment