The Widow from Findings by Ange Hardy & Lukas Drinkwater

A year it has passed and I still see your face as fresh as the grass on the hill where you lay. A year it has gone and here I am weeping while angels hold you in their keeping.

Two years they have passed and I still hear you speaking, as clear as the view where we lay you out sleeping. Two years they have gone, I still hear your voice while angels hold you in their keeping.

Three years they have passed and I still know your laughter as real as the words on your burial marker. Three years they have gone, I still feel your mirth while angels hold you in their keeping.

Four years they have passed and I’m tired of breathing, for time it does fade and my memories leaving. Four years they have gone, I too am now sleeping and angels hold me in their keeping.

• Contemporary Folk
• Folk
• traditional folk
• United Kingdom