Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
Time is so brief I fear
In which to have you near
Your work extends you so...
This is my favourite kind of weather
Rumbling, thundering, broody sky.
The rain and lightning...