Climbers
I had a friend called John.
We climbed together
Derbyshire, Cornwall, Yorkshire
One windy day we climbed beyond our ability
And I fell twenty feet or so before
Being jolted to a halt by our rope
I swung back to the rock face to gain purchase
Our descent was cautious
We'd planned our trip to Europe
I needed cash. John went ahead
To make contacts and find routes
A phone call to the warehouse
Where I was stacking shelves
John found in a snow hole.
Fallen asleep in the sun
And never awoke
The cold
It took three years to visit the grave
In Chamonix
We took a while to find it
We'd brought small, garden tools
What struck us were the photographs
On the gravestones
Of so many young people;
Climbers, skiers, walkers, gliders,
Adventurers
Are you at first missed then a memory?
We tidied the plot.
Looked at the mountains
Attend to memories
Let the jolt of the rope remind you
This be another verse
They tried their best your mum and dad
They did what they thought best for you
They gave you love and hopes and dreams
They told you what they thought was true
In all those years of stress and strain
When you were young and knew it all
They listened carefully to your views
Though you were very frail and small
Parents pass on what they feel
What they believe to be the truth
Truth widens like a coastal shelf
It is the building block of youth
Don't listen to the cynics' sneer
You're made from sterner stuff than that
And if you feel you've been let down
Then drink some wine and stroke the cat
Transcript
(from a BBC Radio 4 programme 2014)
Hello, my name is Ray,
I have always been interested in singing
And one of the things that I liked to sing at an early age was
'Your tiny hand is frozen'
I first met Sylvia, my wife, in 1933
And I was a young, probationer constable stationed at Torquay.
And Sylvia was a conductress on the buses.
She always wore a white shirt and a stiff white collar
And she looked smart in her uniform.
And as I got on the bus,
It must have been January or February 1953,
I noticed that you she was wearing mittens
And her hands were cold.
As I got off the bus I started singing to her 'Your tiny hand is frozen.'
What the other passengers were thinking I do not know
And didn't care very much either.
We got married at St. Mary's Magdaline church
At Higher Union Street, Torquay
And that was on 12th December 1933
Less than twelve months since we first met.
We celebrated our diamond wedding.
Though Sylvia had dementia in the last years of her life
She never forgot this song.
She lived in this house and I said to her
All the time that I could breathe I was going to look after her.
She passed away on her birthday on the 28th of February 2014, this year.
That is my story of 'Your tiny hand is frozen'.
I will hold it to my heart.
