Wednesday, 1 April 2015

I am Wales

I am here, under a cloud of dream

on sacred turf,  I wander , as the rain  patters down,

the land of my mothers and ancestors

on the west coast mooching about at leisure,

as spring awakes  flowers from their sleep

I drift with time and memory,

as the days dark shadows, creeps softly over day

surrounded by mountains and valleys,

wild and elemental, inhaling the whiff of two languages

where  each buoyant moment catches a nerve,

leaves me safe, well at least for now.

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