I have picked up my pen,

Once again,

It may well,

Seem long,

But I think that my song,

Has faded.

                                       Wait for me.

I look at the sky,

Wondering why,

The clouds seem blood red,

Instead,

Of the soft white,

They might be.

                                     Wait for me.

I walk into town,

A frown masks my thoughts,

I am caught,

In my pondering,

Of you,

What do I do?

                                    Wait for me.

Know this,

Please,

The web,

In which I am bound,

And the sound of you,

Gives me hope.

                                     Please wait for me.

                                     _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn