The House - Poem by Daphne Grant
In summertime I will not come
To the house you called home in Goldington
Where two tall fir trees linger yet,
Inside the brick wall there so red.
For you have gone so far away!
Yet near me will you ever stay.
And though my memory sometimes fades,
Some little thing; some slight remark,
A distant bell will start to ring,
And I'll remember everything.
And Sadness for an instant comes
To put a cloud beside the sun,
But sadly I must turn away,
For life is daily: must be run
Against an ever setting sun.
Composed at Southampton 1997
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