Rescue
They’d found him as usual up Pendle Hill,
and as usual the police car stopped at number 26.
Here we are Mrs Higginbottom, safe and sound.
The young policeman spoke gently as he guided his passenger.
Josh was wearing his choir suit and stiff butterfly collar –
proper Sunday attire for these last sixty years.
He’d a fine bass, had been choirmaster
at Carr Road Baptists, practically all his life.
Tricking Florrie with the pills had been easy,
as was setting out for Sabden, his birthplace.
He sang All Things Bright and Beautiful
as he made for the purple headed mountain.
She tenderly helped him inside.
Anything you’d like Josh – mean and potato pie?
Aren’t thee Florrie Lindley?
and don’t thee think it’s time we were wed?
Helen Birtwell has scribbled to not much account all her life. After gaining a B.A.Hons.in English Lit as a mature student of 55 and a Creative Writing Course organised by U.E.A.,she developed an an interest in writing poetry and is stll doing so