The following poem is the only piece of writing that I have left of my beloved faithful departed, and reminds me that she had a deep creative bent and a rather cynical sense of humor, this was written back in the day, before i'd encountered her, after she herself had come to Wales seeking something, ironically she discovered me, a Welshman who never escaped, who had somewhat dropped out myself, adrift in a haze of dope and brew, before she helped me move slightly in another direction, well she certainly awakened my senses . I miss her incredibly. Cheers mighty furbster x.
Seeking Nirvana
They came from the East in their Buses and Vans
Seeking fate in the bottom of stale Beer cans,
Over the border belching woodsmoke and pot
This place is cool man, here we must stop,
Pagans, witches and God knows what
Long hair and beards all in a knot,
The great unwashed clad in Rainbow hues
The Welsh very wisely took to their pews,
For 30 odd years and it's still not over,
The hippy invasion still trampling Welsh clover,
"Hey man it's heavy, that rat race at home,
Here's hill and coast where we might roam,
Let's move to Wales the New Age Eldorado
The Welsh have considered a complete embargo,
"Seal the borders! No more must come here
Stoned out of their heads and reeking of beer,
The hippies pursued by personal fear
Many of them shedding the occasional tear,
A different problem chasing each one
Their grip on humanity almost gone,
They came to forget and sort out their heads
Now they just spend all day in their beds,
Passing their time sloshed or stoned out their mind
Nothing gets done, not a brain cell to find,
It only takes 2 minutes to have a wash
And now they're all complaining they've got no dosh,
They're not happy here and trying to move on
Can't raise the money, motivation gone,
Because they're all followed by personal ghosts
And now the Welsh are sick of playing the host,
The Benefit agency have had enough
Of all this New Age Hippy stuff,
The problems they will never solve
Because their world will always revolve,
Around blotting out their troublesome pasts
And still they haven't found a solution that lasts,
If they'd just stay sober and face their Karma
They'd have no need for Eden and feel a lot calmer. .
The Welsh very wisely took to their pews,
For 30 odd years and it's still not over,
The hippy invasion still trampling Welsh clover,
"Hey man it's heavy, that rat race at home,
Here's hill and coast where we might roam,
Let's move to Wales the New Age Eldorado
The Welsh have considered a complete embargo,
"Seal the borders! No more must come here
Stoned out of their heads and reeking of beer,
The hippies pursued by personal fear
Many of them shedding the occasional tear,
A different problem chasing each one
Their grip on humanity almost gone,
They came to forget and sort out their heads
Now they just spend all day in their beds,
Passing their time sloshed or stoned out their mind
Nothing gets done, not a brain cell to find,
It only takes 2 minutes to have a wash
And now they're all complaining they've got no dosh,
They're not happy here and trying to move on
Can't raise the money, motivation gone,
Because they're all followed by personal ghosts
And now the Welsh are sick of playing the host,
The Benefit agency have had enough
Of all this New Age Hippy stuff,
The problems they will never solve
Because their world will always revolve,
Around blotting out their troublesome pasts
And still they haven't found a solution that lasts,
If they'd just stay sober and face their Karma
They'd have no need for Eden and feel a lot calmer. .
