Monthly Archives: October 2016

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I think it’s true this saying in my father’s homeland:

“To be born Welsh is to be born privileged, not with a silver spoon in your mouth but with a song in your heart and poetry in your soul.”

It’s how I feel anyway. Never wanted wanted to be rich, always want to sing, and poetry sometimes spills out of my most inner needs. 

Not that it’s good poetry but here’s one I thought up last night. 

Home

Where will I search, how will find
a cure for the ache in my bones for my home?

 Touches of rain, winter’s frost, summer’s sun pull me on when my hope is gone.

Where will I step, how will I know
the path that leads to my nameless home?

 Glimpses of starlight, moonlight, daylight pull me through the darkest nights.

Where will I turn, how will I start
to fill to brimming my empty heart?

 Sents of sage, wolf willow, wild rose beckon me follow my lonely nose.

Where will I rest, how will I rise
when I am so tired, so far from my home? 

Whispers in the wind cheer me on,
hold me up when my strength is gone.

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Me

Some days,


this is pretty much how I feel. Transformed, ready to fly but dragging a rock. Not a real positive thought but it’s cool to be at the butterfly stage.