- Neil Bailey
In the glen - poem

Standing in the glen
I see the rain rush by
The clouds gallop across
the heather and rock
Starkness against beauty
Harshness against softness
It could be lonely
It could be cold
but no
the warmth of your hand
in mine is safety
my haven from the storm
that could over take me
You always notice
those moments of fleeting
darkness
No words to say
Just a squeeze of my hand
and all is well
right
safe.
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