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So Long As There Are Days by Belinda Weir

So long as there are days

So long as there are days

when morning suns pull strips of gauze

from round the cairns that top Rise Hill

and lazy bees nose the honeysuckle.

When warming breezes stir the long grass

wakening crickets who saw invisible

while butterflies waltz round the buddleia.

Down the dale caravans sway

in congas of cream and chrome

and bikes take death-defying corners.

So long as there are days

when swifts skim the river Clough like pebbles

and brown trout hide in peat-dark pools;

where we lay towels on limestone pillows

and drift our fingers stained

indigo from brambling, while time slows

and the sheep call across sleepy fields.

Down the dale balloons meander,

towards the far horizon shining

like silver foil where sea melds sky.

So long as there are days

when fading sun finds hidden jewels in stone

and smoke from wood fires spirals nightwards.

When watercolour skies of peach and turquoise

silhouette last games of French cricket

and daisy-chains lie limp, abandoned

in fields grown damp with evening dew.

Down the dale the tractors lumber

and cars crocodile homeward

warm with sun and sleeping children.

Belinda Weir

Belinda Weir researches, writes about and teaches leadership development, with a particular focus on systems leadership. Her poems and short stories have been shortlisted for the Poetry on the Lake competition 2018, the 1000-word challenge, longlisted in the To Hull and Back competition, and published in two anthologies: Northern Crime One (Moth Publishing) and Short Stories for Children (Scholastic publishing). She blogs at and tweets @weirb4

About This Poem

So Long As There Are Days" was written at the end of an August holiday in the Yorkshire Dales, when I was reflecting on what would sustain me through the winter months, and the thought of summers past and to come. It has taken on a new significance during the pandemic.


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