The sweet song
calls back to me,
and my heart
feels the pull
of tranquillity.
For love flows
in those
green meadows.
The Yorkshire rose
sits upon the sea
of emerald,
and the sun
shines gold upon
every dew draped, pale petal.
I left a shadow
of my heart
buried in those
Yorkshire hills.
Where it can drink the sunlight
and glow from inside.
I’m drawn like
a bird flying north.
The tilt of the earth
always leads me here.
This air, so clean and crisp,
droplets of dawn's nectar upon my lips.
Where love sits
catching the breeze.
and I sip at the sweet
dreams it sets free,
like an herby tea
supped from a mug
emblazoned with destiny.
I left a footprint of my soul,
in a hole dug into the
Yorkshire dales. For there
it can grow from it’s stale pain,
to become a blooming flower of hope,
an anchor to the strength I hold deep within.
I stay in cotton bud fantasy
wrapped tightly around me,
but I know that I can’t stay,
for my heart belongs to
someone
where my hat lays,
and as I travel away,
I sit facing backwards
as I want to see
the beauty until it
fades into the grey.
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