A rare summers day indeed,
Per chance to rest a while upon your inviting carpet of evergreen.

To lay and ponder on the sights we've seen,
And let them drift away on the breeze, carried by birdsong.

There is no judgement here,
Nor heavy toll.
A simple place to purge the burdens of your soul.

You find yourself on an empty path of unforfillment,
Younger friends and family which you have watched grow.
Catch you up and slowly pass you by,
Each time reminding you or your own complacency and failure to progress.
You pray that something, anything will happen to crash into your mundane orbit and knock you off course,
But it never does.

There are no roses on a sailors grave,
No lillees on an ocean wave.
The only tributes are the seagulls sweeps,
And the tear drops that the lover weeps.

Family keep saying let go,
But I can't as we both love as so.
You were young as we met in the thrill,
Of the seaside beneath the cliff hill.

I remember the full moon and stars, as we cuddled and kissed by the cars.
I'm a believer of old,
And when the shooting star told,
We're together and bound by mars.

For those of us who recall the reason why we wish to leave this existence and for those of us who have just given up.
The time acts still until the moment some chancer fills himself with gusto and decides " this is his time".
But what young ones should learn and are never taught is to never cause trouble with the quiet slow walking ones with dead black eyes.
They may appear as vulnerable but this is simply how they stalk their prey.
Talk to and learn from these, you will be surprised, as you find they are not all they seem.
For I was you, hotheaded once, and was nearly installed in a stream.

Hello Mother,
Can you hear me?
Are you there?
Its me, your son...who longs for your embrace and a kind word, as it was before, in happier times.
Tell me mother,
Does father still sit at night by the fire until the dying embers slip away?
Speak to him mother,
Explain to him that no peace or solitude can be found by staring at the cold dead granite of the hearth.
Father blames himself i know but it was my life, my duty, my choice to go.
Talk to him mother,
Remind him of his son's eternal love for you and father,
Im in a strange place, yet my fear is replaced by calmness and the knowledge that we will all again one day meet, in a place and time reserved for happiness and endless days.
A mothers love and bond cannot be broken by death or time,
I shall wait for you there where you will find me picking spring flowers by the river and i will once again hear your call.

I wish I could enjoy today but I always have tomorrow,
With a sweeping hand I hide my face from happiness or sorrow.
Always moving forward never looking back behind,
No rest or peace is ever found for i can never unwind.