His grave.

His grave.

The fencing had to be replaced, old timber nailed to the run

Nothing seems to last as long, whilst waiting in the sun

The floors aren't polished anymore, they're rugged and we'll used

The birds still come to tease that cat, he's no longer amused

The days are long over the summer heat, the breeze of the sea a beautiful relief

This young heart while thinking of you, still unsettled with a longing grief

No matter what day the calendar leads , my love for him still longing bleeds

And the seaside knows how deep I crave
And loathe such fair wells from his grave.