Uncle Pat

I set off this morning

Down the road along the river

Which I take but once a year

My walk will take me by the shore

Then inland for a mile or more

From the cold sea spray

A small wood stands upon the hill

An old house near it lies in ruins

Forgotten long ago

And here in a clearing, overgrown with moss and ivy

Is your lonely grave

At dusk I will make my way

Along the lanes and through the fields

To where my cottage is

But before I step inside for bed

I'll look up at the stars as we had

All those years ago

So here's for Uncle Pat