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 systemsleadership.wordpress.com 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.