Love And Memory Poem by Gerry Freeman

They walked just here, the lovers,
On the path by the dual carriageway
And their footsteps slowed along Chester Road,
From the Hastings Hill estate.
Light slipped through the chinks in the curtains
Of the houses they passed, side by side.
She wished he'd step closer and hold her
But he was annoyingly shy.
Their babysitting duties earlier
Had left her that way inclined.
Borrowed domesticity, like static electricity,
Must be discharged sometimes.
At the Grindon Mill pub on the corner
A dog suddenly barked in the yard.
Now that was her cue, as even he knew,
When she threw herself into his arms.
They stood for a moment, our lovers,
Enjoying their first real embrace.
He looked in her eyes and understood why
She'd insisted on coming this way.
The stars that shone far above them
Were the most beautiful either had known,
That fine, cool night, by orange lamplight,
While they dawdled to her home.
Tomorrow was not a school day,
They could stay out as late as they liked.
He joked as they walked, she laughed and they talked,
Not just kids anymore, not quite.
So on they went, as lovers,
His arm at last round her waist.
The best of all worlds for a good Catholic girl,
Desired, yet pure and chaste.
They're parted now, those lovers,
But I'll always remember that stroll
From Hastings Hill to the Grindon Mill,
It's become a part of my soul.