grief – Helen Glynn Jones

I See You

I see you my friend In the green grass and the soft heather bloom In the ancient stones and wild peaks In the tumbling stream and the dark woods I see you In the scattered light upon the path In the crouching hare in the long grass In the turning wing of the hunting kiteContinue reading “I See You”

For My Friend

‘When you part from your friend, you grieve not; for that which you love most in him will be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.’ Ah, good old Kahlil Gibran, always trying to find the positive, the lesson, in the sometimes-tangled mess of life. I supposeContinue reading “For My Friend”

For Paris

I first visited Paris when I was seventeen, my friend and I getting lost in the ancient streets, sitting in parks and watching people go by, caught up in the magic of the city. It felt strangely familiar to me; I suppose the fact I spoke French quite well helped. I have been back severalContinue reading “For Paris”