Milan cathedral on the way up to the roof
Faith allows you to believe,
And is free in will and money.
Religion tells you to believe,
And you pay in fear and money.
As I looked down the mist shrouded valley
Only the ‘dare’s church spire
Pierced the white blanket
Frost glistening carpet of green grass
The sharp bitterness of the Winter cold
Frozen puddles of water as clear as glass
See the warmth of my breath leave my body of old
The Sun trying to haul itself over the hill
The crisp blueness of a cloudless sky
In the distance the ruin of an old mill
A stream rushing past, it’s wheel once sent droplets high.