Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Seedlings in Flight
The water and the wind
The water and the wind
The water and the wind
The water the wind
& the grasses blown on home to you
The grasses blown
Blown on
To thoughts of home
On the water and the wind
The thoughts blown on home to you
Here among your highland grounds
Here among your standing stones
Here among your land of endless lochs & pantries
Here among the water and the wind
Here among the thoughts that I blow on home to you
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