The cityscape is fading now,
Cathedral spires turn and flee,
Where once we danced within our dreams,
And set our spirit free.
The Nene flows on, the boats they sway,
As sun sets swift, on dying day.
In twilight gaze of crimson glow,
We walked among the naked trees,
While dappled thoughts of long ago,
Embraced our hearts serene.
The Nene flowed on, as moonlight bathed,
Two lovers and their yesterdays.
We walk along the riverbank,
Where silence whistles through the trees,
As echoes of the late night train,
Awaken the unseen.
Still on it flows, that river Nene,
Through fens and cities silently.
R.M Roberts ©2011
Tales From Behind A Cushion 