These empty streets

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It was always too late for us, my love,

Cold winds blew our dreams away

Before I could even say 'I love you so'.

Along these empty streets the scattered

Snow in the icy air tells me you're not there.

I took you into my dreams before I even knew

You existed and all the twists of life bounded

Up with you. But who can see the end of life

In this storm of wind and cold and being young?

Do not tell me that the stars still shine.

They are just God's joke at our expense,

Life is lent, not given, borrowed on a whim

From accident, we hoped serendipity was master

Mistress of our intent. But luck and chance

Conspired to come too late and fate took over.

As usual a cold body in a lake means love came

Too late to recreate the blue-remembered hills of home.




◄ Winter



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Stu Buck

Thu 30th Nov 2017 13:06

i love the last line here. the blue-remembered hills of home. what a fab phrase. the whole piece is lovely, perfect for the winters day we are facing.

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