Safe Haven
The clouds wept that bleak stormy Wednesday
The stream in the farm land ghyll overflowed.
Shrouded within the moorland mist
The water rose then rose and rose
Yet with renewed hope and speculation
Wee lads waded where ‘Turner Lane’ once was.
Beyond the boundary stone wall
The patter of many voices
Laughing in the face of the fierce wind
After all ‘Jack Steel’s Red Barn was there.
Hay bales still warm and snug
From the urchins body
Gave shelter to the wearisome
Those of us threaten by the rain.
© Harry J Horsman 2010
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2010
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