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Sub Rosa
Where once her warm and sanguine heart
fell ashen grey to rest in cold base dirt
high over the familiar bush and shrub
proud crimson blooms pine for love
Where their sacred beauty sings to my heart
they call forth the lovely nightingale
high in their cloudless summer sky
to sweetly sing their longing song
There, I too confess a secret yearning
silent hidden d...
Friday 17th May 2019 1:39 pm
The Bench
I sit outside the door
on a slate bench
my back against the cottage wall
in the evening sun
listening to a blackbird sing
the most astonishing sweet notes
In front of me
there is elderflower
honeysuckle
buttercups spangle the uncut grass
and the old larch looms in its corner
beyond the ancient stones of Hafod
which mark my plot
The sun has not long returned
...Sunday 24th June 2018 9:22 am
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