There was a time

When my words

Reached soft fluffy clouds

And I was happy.

Now,

It seems these words

Return,

Misunderstood,

And only good

As rain

For some lost parade.

Should I be less kind?

I mind not

That you should think so,

But if it means

That I should rearrange

Myself,

So be it.

Have I made mistakes?

Oh yes!

I guess you know that well.

But when my words,

Absurd, or not,

Land upon very barren ground,

The sound

Destroys me.

Take the love

I have for you

And place it

With those words,

Absurd,

Or not.

                                              _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn