David Barlow

I am not in love,
But I am drawn to you,
Like a Moth to a candle flame.
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Judged and found guilty and sentence pronounced.
Life for the love I couldn’t denounce.
Pure gentle and true, though tinged with blue.
Is that such a crime, my love for you.
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What is in a kiss,
Body and soul, heart and mind,
When lovers lips meet.
Without that kiss emptiness,
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Brave Soldier wounded in Iraq,
Lost his Mate in the same attack.
Sent back home to the NHS;
Military Hospitals all closed now.
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We were loves young dream such a long time ago,
A pretty young girl and her handsome beau.
Just out of our teens and our lives all before us,
Not a care in the world and so deeply in love.
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Your Suicide Note really tore at my heart,
When I saw your picture and read what you said.
It effected me deeply and I could not sleep,
For thinking of you, not wanting you dead.
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Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, cant wait for the mail every day.
Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, like a child on Christmas Eve.
Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, eyes bright with delight I have one.
Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, hungrily devour every word.
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Go to favourites and click onto Hotmail
Excitedly type in the password and wait
Inbox says empty my spirits sink low
Wanting you near me, waiting to hear
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Don’t cry, don’t cry please,
Suns shining flowers blooming,
Life’s worth living now.
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Your eyes said kiss me,
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Live, Love, Laugh there may be no tomorrow.
This thing I read and made me think,
Of just how short our life is.
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Everyone will have a year they never forget and for a number of reasons mine is 1966.

I was 18 and King of the Hill in 66, knew it all, but knew nothing at all.
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You came to me again last night,
And in my dreams I held you so tight.
I smell your sweet perfume and touch your warm skin,
Your face so clear, your lips so near.
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First there’s the build up the tension inside.
The feelings and longings you just can not hide.
Weeks of waiting and wanting with cold lonely nights.
For the warmth and the closeness that we feel tonight.
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I should be happy and I’m not,
And I really don’t know why.
I should be happy and I’m not,
I really could sit down and cry.
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I got to thinking the other day.
About you and me and senile decay.
Will I still be red hot when I’m sixty four.
Will you still turn me on as you did years before.
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I don’t know your name but they call you Fawn,
How that just fits your delicate form.
I saw in your eyes the first time we met,
That you were quite special and not like the rest.
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Britannia smiles o’er Lakes and Hills
Such beauty never seen
It takes your breath
It makes you proud
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Regimental Sergeant Major James Corrigan MC,
A regular Soldier in World War One,
Was Mortally wounded whilst saving another.
He got an appointment to see the King,
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