Our Hellvellyn
By poetjude
Mon, 13 Sep 2004
- 1691 reads
You Lead us through the softest slopes
Where free birds soared above in mists
retreating as the morning dew
was gently dried by sun.
The threads of golden light then wove
heaven's fabric through the land
igniting ruffled angels wings
blown from God's own hand.
We wing our way through glory day
your footsteps showing us the way.
As once you traversed striding edge
you stride through memory.
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for Brian McCarthy with whom I walked up Hellvellyn in 1993 and who
died on 1st June 2002 aged 70
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