White dancing horses upon the hill,
Clouds entwined never standing still.
Trees stand proud. Upright and grand,
Searching the heavens with wooden hands.
In the distance a cloth of blue,
Rippling water . Ever- changing. Anew.
And I lay here on velvet grass,
Watching those clouds as they saunter past.
I know in my heart that you are not gone.
But in all that I see. You go on.

Dennis Taylor 1939-1971
I miss you.