On the north side of town
Near the base of a hill
A little grey house
Stood silent and still

The rooms cold and empty
The closets hung bare
But for one humble space
At the top of the stair

Where a blanket lay blooded
Over timber so rough . . .
It was all that we needed
It was shelter enough

To discover each other
To laugh and to play
To love and to cherish
To rock and to sway

To be violent and peaceful
To defend and attack
To always press forward
And never look back

Now sometimes in dreams
I still see your face
I smell your sweet scent
And I’m back in that place

Where our fires were kindled
Our passions were burned
Where so much was given
And so much was earned

Where we each found the answers
So desperately sought
Where so much was questioned
And so much was taught

Where the truth was so naked
There was no thought to lie
When the time came to part
With a simple "goodbye"

Where our story was written
To never be told
Forever to treasure -
In silence to hold

So what you doing writing about it then?

I like this, it's a simple well written piece with a lot of clear depth, but I'm not sure what I'm imagining!

It's all so innocent and truthful set somewhere in a wonderful childhood but for "Where a blanket lay blooded",
This sentence makes me question the scene too much, and what exactly is going on underneath that blanket?

You've done this kind of thing before, like "till the child is dead" in a 'Sunday Morn', it sticks out or even pushes the listener too sharply into a place that is, true to the poem, but a stark reality and harsh truth, when the rest of the poem is not.

Wow! Kings really hit it on the button. His reaction is pretty much exactly what I was trying for.

Kings said: "So what you doing writing about it then?...it's a simple ... piece with a lot of clear depth, but I'm not sure what I'm imagining."

The song is from him to her, and it is ABOUT what happened, but they both know the story, and there is no need to retell it between them. The story itself remains "to never be told"

The blooded blanket brings you back, because it sticks out as the stark reality (as Kings said), whereas the rest is contemplative and general. You read the rest looking for clues, trying to figure out what story fits it all together.

Is this really about children, or do the themes become a little to mature? The blanket lay over rough timber - do you think they were under it? On top of it? Maybe it was just discarded at the top of the stair for some reason. Do the themes sound a bit mature for children? Is the blooded blanket about the obvious - a passage from childhood and innocence into adulthood? Or could it be about a different passage?. The blanket has to be symbolic of something, since it's the ONLY thing in the house. In addition, the adjective "blooded" rather than "bloodied" signifies some manner of ritual. But where does that blood really come from? There are hints of other possible causes for that blood, and regardless of the source, there could be a symbolism that only these two know. What is the real relationship between these two, and who are they? The story, and the answers to these questions, will be treasured in silence between the two of them. But between themselves, there would be no ambiguity in these words - none at all.

Yes, understood.
I did want to name a few of the situations that came to mind, the passage to adulthood was one, a murder was another. I mean "To rock and to sway" under a blanket!!! images of Physico razor across my mind!

Well there is the 'violence', and then this :
When the time came to part
With a simple "goodbye"
And if one of them is dead then the story 'remains untold' from within the poems point of view.

O! and a very merry Christmas to you and yours!

It could be as extreme and dark as Kings last comment, and there are many other possibilities.

I will share this with you: The empty grey house and the "blooded blanket" ARE the only real things in this story. I found the blanket in the empty house, and wondered what the story was. It became the inspiration for this song. I fleshed it out with a montage of experience, fantasy, conjecture  and emotion.

no matter what the possibilities, you obviously have a vivid imagination; this is a truly haunting yet also passionate lyric - very gothic, in that manner, without becoming kitsch. I would love to see this put to music one day, more than any of your other pieces - even though those too are excellent pieces - but I can (and want to) identify with the first person of this one easier.