THE cold wind blows

From the south

And I can hear whispers

From your mouth.

It’s very cold in winter

In my mind you’ve left

A splinter.

You’ve left me and

There is no doubt

Our love is through

And out.

A scar you’ve left

In my heart

Why did you go

And our sweet love

Part?

I write this letter

So you’ll return one

Day

Don’t let our love

Burn Away

Now our love

Is void and none

Why have you gone?

Francis Page

Pontalun Close

Barry