The cold air swept along the streets
It's desolate call, a numbing sound
Our time was set for two o'clock
When we would gather all around
The Vicar had been worried
About how many would be going
But in the end the Church
Was filled to overflowing
My view was limited
At the side in temporary seating
I couldn't see very well
But my heart was still fast-beating
For my imagination replaced lost vision
And made the occasion somehow greater
A memory I could always return to
A treasure to be kept for later
For three quarters of an hour we heard
The voices of children everywhere
I let them all wash slowly over me
Felt the magic in the air
The world and all it's troubles
Suspended for a short while
The frowns and worried looks
Replaced with sunny smiles
Outside once again we braved
The harsh wind that never stops
And which had carried the pure voices away
Over the South Shields rooftops
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely written. I enjoyed this poem a lot. The title caught me because I have a poem called ROOFTOP STRONGHOLD.