<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392211" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Blood Lines</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maybe this will be the last journey<br>And I will not return again<br>Riding down to the stony beach<br>Where spring once was gentle<br>and love innocent</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now autumn clings on, struggles for breath<br>Gliding on the tops of cliffs<br>The paths that resisted invasion<br>Germany, Spain, the French<br>Its strength diminishing by the year</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Torn by winter's claws, relentless<br>Brave young defenders, sons of refugees<br>Stubborn homemakers, not ready to yield <br>Their locus of happiness by the sea</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I chose the train and not the bus<br>Thinking how you converse in carriages<br>Like those Ealing films, black and white<br>That helped make England a great place to live</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A little girl riding for the first time<br>Her mother pale and flittering<br>And grandad in bright Barbados jams<br>All mixed in together with me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even for suited businesswomen<br>Dealing cards and property<br>The ride is over much too soon<br>Too soon for real ecstasy<br>Or to place the soul at peace</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fresh oysters sold on the stony shore<br>Seagulls louder than the drunken boys</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so the trail leads me here<br>I may not visit in another spring<br>This season is so harsh for weak<br>And sentimental hearts, as mine has been</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soft-bitten, easy with a smile<br>Thinking of homes in London, Spain<br>And summertime, carefree with them<br>Before the years of doubt and pain</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wherein these journeys can't escape<br>The shadows of the darkening sky<br>Where I piggy-back<br>On what came before<br>And lines of blood lead here once more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Frank+Bana">Frank Bana</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392211" data-title="Blood Lines de Frank Bana" data-description="Maybe this will be the last journey And I will not return again Riding down to the stony beach Where spring once was gentle and love innocent Now autumn clings on, struggles for breath Gliding on the tops of cliffs The paths that resisted invasio..."></div> </div> </div>

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