Back There.
Oh for those hills of my homeland
greening their fall
to the sea, oh for rainbow\'s sheen
topping flat waters of
sandy coves, dreams from abroad
hear calling of gulls
hungry for catching bounty\'s haul
and they, like me
scream for another small helping
of lost hospitality.
Oh how I yearn for each morning\'s
wake to cooler breezes,
where coastline old granite boasts
as sentinel and valleys
hide essential hold on open doors
for returners who
remember the essence of kin-folk
Oh to chase high-tide
breaking as white-beach rollers,
to be nightly tucked in
by motherland air and then rest
in that special fold
of its ample breasted welcome.
Oh to be back there once more.