Leaving Wales

Wales to me is her Celtic tribal history, Wales to me is walks upon her shores. Wales to me is her druids, saints, and mystery, the soil I tread, the salt that leaves my pores. We drove an hour from Brecon down to Cardiff, a plane to catch, a new job to begin. She dropped me off but lingered for a long, long kiss, I miss her now; my love, my lady Gwyn. In my window seat, I glimpse a fishing trawler, as Bristol Channel meets the Celtic Sea. My heart grows lonesome as the boat grows smaller, I long for Wales and all she means to me. I miss her valleys, I miss her plains and lush, warm hills, I miss her beauty that would make me stop and stare. I miss her gardens, her leeks and lovely daffodils, I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there. I'll be thinking of her Welsh cakes and her laverbread, I'll be thinking of our trips to Aberystwyth. I'll be thinking of the beer we love, the tasty Cwtch red ale, I'll be thinking of the one I'd drink it with. I'd love to throw some darts and sing within her pubs, I'd love to watch her rivers, lakes and coast. I'd love to watch some matches of her rugby union clubs - But the one I love is the one I'm missing most. I miss her valleys, I miss her plains and lush, warm hills, I miss her beauty that would make me stop and stare. I miss her gardens, her leeks and lovely daffodils I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there, I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there. Written 16 June 2020