Welsh Rill

old saw scissored shades of Betsycoed taste of yester youth's sweet tones splashing sound of forest water kissing shining sacred stones Dreams of swirling druids dancing in the faery water's rill flash reflective thoughts of flight The dragon tears yet spill The druid hymn of waiting for greed to die of want a constant scream of tortured winds belie the curse of can't What matters ought to those who fought and died that I be here to stand beneath a blazing sky and gaze upon the Western sea moments of reflective thought pondered on expressed and caught to feed an ever growing need To dig and rap and plant a seed That blossoms in another mind Repeated as the finest kind to be forever sowing seed To seed And time to spend with thee