David Weaver
gone but not forgotten
‘The Valley of the Whistling Wind’
David Weaver ©
When you walk through ‘The valley of the whistling wind’,
in the rock carve the face of a lover.
Feel the fresh breeze from a land faraway,
and remember the love for another.
The sun shines harsh off the granite peaks,
at the ridge beware the sheer drop.
On reaching the edge there is much more to see,
near the pinnacle of crags at the top.
Follow my footsteps for it’s safer that way,
tread only where I have stepped.
Pause in the shadows where no one will see,
let’s mark the place where we slept.
Smell the sweet blossoms swept up from below,
hear the music of the wind through the caves.
Like a giant pipe organ designed by the gods,
carved out by celestial slaves.
Try pressing your face into pure driven snow,
feel the sharp tang of ice on your lips.
I’ll stand behind you and we’ll breathe out white mist,
whilst I’m gently caressing your hips.
There’s a path to the right which leads to forever,
let’s start our journey again.
Walk past all the ghosts of our yesterdays,
and forget all those moments of pain.
We’ll go on a journey of never return,
choose from a hundred side tracks.
With the stars in your hair we’ll follow your light,
but whatever you do don’t look back.
David I enjoyed that thanks