She lies there,alone, but flowers have been laid.
Yes fresh flowers were laid. She died quite while ago on summers day, they record around hundred years ago. Got her age wrong. Yorkshire people do that often. Lot of Asperger's undiagnosed locally.
I think.
She lies there and her stories are bigger then life.
They come to see her, standing in warm fleece overweight in 73 degree's. Pay homage outside Church walls where she waits...for eternity. Bathed in summer suns of Scarborough Town. While later opt into nearby Church for coffee and cake.
The laughing and folly her sister so despised, still echo's along cliff tops. Anne Bronte's dead her last days spent on bench before she gave up the ghost.
I sit here lost in thoughts of my childhood not sure why.
But know my time is almost paid up.
No need to bring me flowers, nor pens, no need to stand in outdoor fleece overweight and in deep reflection.
But wouldn't mind you sitting on clifftop near Church reflecting as she did then.
Further l do now.
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