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Inspired by Rhydnut's Preparing To Deliver
and rhydian
Preparing To Receive
We watched the early snowdrops
and
golden daffodils parade.
We watched the woods burst forth with bells,
in their cooling blue cascade.
Now we witness
summers store.
The purple pink foxglove
and the radiant red rose,
a symbol of true love.
We've seen the shadows
shorten,
as the sun climbs in the sky.
Not low on the horizon
but shining bright and high.
I love the passing
seasons.
Each one holds a treasure rare,
but this year I am longing for
rosebay willowherb's white hair.
To
see the berries, ruby red.
Horse chestnuts, rich and brown
and the dusty spider's web
turn to a diamond crown.
With
autumn comes the harvest,
rich rewards it's prize to bring.
When robin sits remembering
his joyful song of spring.
But
we shall have sweet music,
when summer's in the past.
The long awaited special voice
will be our joy, at last.
The
work, well done in sringtime
and through the summer long,
will be our feast in winter.
With each and every song.
It
will be a gift to treasure,
we really do believe.
You're preparing to deliver.
We're preparing to receive.
Copyright Redkite
Your Stage
It's
said the world is but a stage,
where each must play their part.
From Prelude to Finale,
then to the Wings depart.
Most
of us have small roles to play.
Walk on, walk off, naught said.
Others have some more to give.
To lead, not to be
led.
Some are thrust and unprepared.
Some have honed the talent given.
Success the outcome for the man,
by
such commitment driven.
You have stepped out to your destiny.
Held your future in both hands.
Prepared to go
the extra mile,
for it's what your pride demands.
You have felt the touch of limelight.
Put your talent on parade.
Taken
risks, but carefully measured.
been ecstatic, been afraid.
Before the blackened backdrop,
you have been the brightest
star.
Success deserved, yet dignified.
You've proclaimed just who you are.
Success is just one measure.
A
reward for work put in,
but a joyful and contented heart,
must also beat within.
Take to the stage, give to the
world
Your song's of inspiration,
and may your life, forever be
filled with music's celebration
Copyright Redkite
You Will Leave Your Mark
Just
how many people
have gone without a trace,
and the world they thought was permanent
has become a different place?.
Their
hopes,dreams and achievements
have melted in the air.
Gone and now forgotten
as if they were never there.
Time
erases memories,
though we try to pass them on.
but will tomorrow's father
pass his memories to his son?.
The
cottage and the farmstead
are now just mossy stones.
The chapel,decayed awaits it's fate.
Now filled with ghostly
tones.
How privileged are the number
who leave their special mark.
Be it bright and glorious,
or initials
carved on bark.
Rhydian, you will leave your mark,
be remembered for your craft.
Enjoyed by those now present
and
those who will come aft.
You will not be forgotten
as time it rolls along.
A precious legacy for all,
You've
captured in a song.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Rhydian's Coat
While watching
"I'd Do Anything",
not being at Newbury.
Listening to "Any Dream Will Do",
being sung by Joseph, Lee.
I know that
you auditioned,
but it was never meant to be.
Some other dream was yours to claim.
I hope that you'll agree.
Sometimes
it is the knock back
that holds a secret key.
Sometimes a blessing in disguise,
which at the time you cannot see.
Looking
back in retrospection,
it all becomes quite clear.
Your moment was awaiting,
your dream was drawing near.
You
too would win your audience.
You too would raise a cheer.
You too would live those moments
of hope, but tinged with
fear.
God moves in mysterious ways,
no explanation or report,
but He knew He would adorn you
in the brightest
golden coat.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Songs
Is it the last birdsong
of evening,
to hold away the night deceiving,
that make's me stop and catch my breath,
and wish for day no sweeter
death?.
Is it the curlew's haunting cry,
within the darkening moorland sky.
That pierces my heart with ecstasy.
The
rising moon my soul to see?.
Is it speckled thrush upon the bough,
or blackbirds trill behind the plough.
That
makes my vision mist and blur
and deep emotions rise and stir?
Nature's song, though sweet its rapture,
does
not my heart completely capture.
There is a place for just one more.
A Rhydian Song, I'll safely store.
Copyright Redkite
Burning Blue
It was not
the cool shade of Glaslyn,
that I chanced to see within,
or palest sky caught in the dew.
But firey passion burning
blue.
No chilling mists on rocky spire.
But sunset mountain's rich red fire.
They are so much a part of you.
They
glow in eyes of burning blue.
With pride outpouring there you stood.
You took your place, I knew you could,
and
from your soul the anthem grew.
Bathed in light of burning blue.
You raised the hymn, the soul you fed.
A million
voices, there you led.
You brought them home with visions new.
Seen in the eyes of burning blue.
When Country
holds the inner key,
to what behind those eyes I see,
no pale indifference showing through.
But deep wells of pride
are burning blue.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Inspired Visions
The
bird of prey up in the tree,
I look at him, he looks at me.
He sees the wonder in my face.
How blessed am I to share
his space.
The pheasant comes to eat the seeds,
dropped by the chaffinch as it feeds
and fearless robin, breast
displayed,
is perched upon the balustrade.
Shy woodpecker, black, red and white,
his presence adds to my delight.
A
flash of turquoise,here comes the jay.
Pause, survey then fly away.
Although I wonder at these sights
and birdsong
thrills me and delights.
I sit here listening and rejoice,
enraptured by another voice.
When someone inspires
you with his song,
you see things hidden far too long.
With eyes wide open, look around,
There will be treasures
to be found.
Copyright ~ Redkite
BLUE
Blue
is the Earth in the depths of space,
a jewel bright in a cold dark place.
A halo of blue we observe in the skies,
but
the truest of blue, I see in your eyes.
Blue is the haze on the distant hill.
Muted, subdued, tranquil and still.
Resting
on the horizon as daylight dies,
but the clearest of blue, I see in your eyes
Blue is the slate in the sun to behold.
Held
in the old rocks for man to unfold.
Reflecting its hue in the lake where it lies,
but the deepest of blue, I see in
your eyes.
Blue is the peacock strutting on the Estate.
Displaying his radiance, outshining his mate.
Dancing
with pride for he who espies,
but the brightest of blue, I see in your eyes.
Blue is the speedwell and blue is
the bell,
dappled in sunlight down in the dell.
Breathtaking in beauty, the woods May surprise,
But the fairest of
blue, I see in your eyes.
Blue is the dragonfly and blue the damsel.
Casting over the water a magical spell.
Sunlit
iridescence caught fast as it flies,
but the most radiant of blue, I see in your eyes.
Blue is a colour of beauty
and light,
not sadness, but mystical fantasy bright.
Harmonious in nature, my happy heart sighs
at the magical blue
I see in your eyes.
Copyright ~ Redkite
The A to
Z Factor
Auditionee for the X Factor Show.
Brimming with confidence, get up and go.
Cowell knew
talent was standing right there.
Danni then got him, part of her share.
Everyone wondered what songs he would sing.
Fabulous
performance, each time he would bring.
Get the Party Started caused quite a stir.
Hair and suit,silver, plus white faux
fur.
Inventing an image, making a Star.
Judges deep down, knew he would go far.
Keeping his dignity right the way
through.
Loved by so many, his fanbase just grew.
Musical mastery, he has it was clear.
No other came close, no other
came near.
Over the months we have shared in his fame.
People in millions now know his name.
Queues of fans waiting
for a glimpse after shows.
Rhydian on banners and Rhydian on clothes.
Signing and chatting to one and to all.
Time
didn't matter, Rhyd was having a Ball.
Unstinted attention to fans young and old.
Vision to treasure, more precious
than gold.
Wembley show was the end of the tour.
X Factor behind him, it just opened the door.
You've witnessed the
rise of a brilliant new Star.
Zooming to great heights, our Rhyd's going far.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Early Morning..June 2nd
The
mist hangs low on morning moors.
I pass and shadowy sheep take fright,
then stand to greet the promised dawning.
While
I hear The Music Of The Night.
The hill I leave behind is hidden.
Clouds like phantoms drape the height.
Hushed
in the sunless, sleeping silence
I listen to The Music Of The Night.
The horses on the dewed grass grazing.
Silhouettes
against the silver light.
Raise up their heads, as if they too
can hear The Music Of The Night.
Now the sun ahead
is rising.
An orange orb, God's celestial kite,
and through the day, I will recall
the visions seen to The Music
Of The Night.
A song is not just words and music.
It's power can set the soul alight.
Your voice broke through
the early gloom
and I still hear The Music Of The Night
Copyright ~ Redkite
Know They Are Always There
You've
got your goals and vision
and the dream that you hold dear,
but there'll be times along the way,
when they may not
seem so clear.
You may aim to reach the highest peak.
Plan each step with so much care.
then you may awake one
morning
and question, is it really there.
That peak you aim to conquer,
for a time may seem too high,
obscured
in gray rain burdened clouds
and hidden from your eye.
But when the rain clouds roll away,
you'll glimpse again
that noble peak.
Once more, strong steadfast and sunlit,
you'll climb the heights you seek.
The path so clear
in winter,
reaches up to higher ground.
No obstacle to hinder you,
yet in summer can't be found.
Take steady
steps remembering
the path where crossroads meet.
Though shy in summer's chaos green.
It's still there beneath your
feet.
If the well of inspiration,
should suddenly run dry,
become a trickle not a torrent
and you're left
to wonder why.
No magic music flowing,
just a dwindling songless stream.
Soon winter, loud will raise her voice,
to
quench your thirst, revive your dream.
And should the sense of Hiraeth
sometimes be hard to bear.
Though you
may not see the lights of home.
In your heart they will be there.
Shining on your triumphs.
Illuminating every
goal.
Rekindling every dream you hold
and replenishing your soul.
Copyright ~ Redkite
". . .inspired by my walk in the forest and
Rhydian"
Natures Cathedral
Amongst your pillars straight and tall,
I
feel so privileged, yet so small.
While in my head a hymn is heard.
sung by the voice of man, not bird.
Every
line so true and clear.
Resounding from each barky pier.
To touch the soul and to inspire,
amongst each leafy,lofty
spire.
Your voice raised to the canopy,
vaulted, green, arched Sacred tree.
Could there ever be such sound,
in
another place be found?.
Not echoing through the man laid stone,
but flowing free and skyward bourne.
It glides
across the shimmering grass,
while sun provides her own stained glass.
An anthem sung amongst the saints,
when
sung here, finds no restraints.
Each pillar rooted in the ground,
but reaching upward, heaven bound.
You sing
your song, clear notes combine.
An Anthem, Aria, Hymn devine,
not within the walls of Man,
but part of God's much
greater plan.
I'll take your song amongst the trees,
where peace and quiet come with ease.
My cathedral I'll
find there,
in the still, gold evening air.
A day well spent in contemplation.
Your song and nature's celebration.
Your
music led me on my way,
through leafy green, not stoney gray.
And as your voice begins to fade,
and I descend
to open glade.
A Sacred place I leave behind,
your voice, your song still in my mind.
Copyright ~ Redkite
An Ode For Newbury
The
thoroughbreds are out tonight
in multi-coloured silks so bright.
Race down the straight and round the bend,
a warm
up for the Meeting's end.
So come on ladies place your bet.
The favourites there so don't you fret.
The line-up
may have quality,
but the Welsh one's proved his pedigree.
Brave, committed, proud of head.
A band of eager fillies
led,
down to the track to see the race.
Then gaze upon that noble face.
He's trained so hard to reach the course.
You've
cheered him on 'til you were hoarse.
A nose, a head, a length in front.
A winners place is what you want.
So
gather all at Newbury,
creme de la creme you're going to see.
"Should I place a bet", I hear you mutter,
be like
your heart and have a flutter!
Copyright ~ Redkite
Let Rhydian Sing
Let
Music bring
a song of joy and inspiration.
A happy dance of celebration.
Let Rhydian sing.
Let Music bring
a
song of true appreciation.
An anthem fit for any nation.
Let Rhydian sing.
Let Music bring
such magic intonation.
To
justify such adulation.
Let Rhydian sing.
Let Music bring
not a note of confrontation,
but the warmth of consolation.
Let
Rhydian sing.
Let Music bring
all the fruits of dedication,
when he finds his destination.
Let Rhydian sing.
Let
Music bring
the truth and confirmation,
of a winning combination.
Let Rhydian sing.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Ripples
The
lake was silent, as I sat
alone upon the bluebell mat.
The heron standing on the log
and in the distance, man and
dog.
Then suddenly a fish did leap
from the water, still and deep.
Leaving on the glassy lake
outspreading
ripples in it's wake.
Moving free like waves of sound,
ever outward, distant bound.
To gain momentum as they
grow,
wider, further as they flow.
Like those ripples that I see,
may Rhydian's voice forever be,
speading
out from inner core,
reaching for that distant shore.
Carrying songs for all to hear.
Undulations, smooth and
clear.
Let nothing from the joy deflect.
Found in the Rhydian Effect
Copyright ~ Redkite
A Friday Refrain
[Rhydian's
CD, my travelling companion]
It's Friday, come away with me
to where the air is fresh and free.
Sing
your songs in sweet succession,
let's leave the nine 'til five procession.
Break away in freedoms flight.
Look
yonder at the distant height.
Leave behind the bustling crowd.
Sing forth your song, sing out aloud.
Behind us
see the Cheshire plain,
with fields of dairy herds and grain.
Then look ahead and take a glance
to see the clouds
on hilltops dance.
See Moel Fammau's lofty dome.
We're almost there, we're almost home.
I fly on mountain's shoulders
free.
It's where you raise me up to be.
Along the Alyn's winding course,
we head towards it's moorland source.
Where
falcon soars above the sheep,
go west, descend to valley deep.
Now Rhyd yr Hafan comes in view.
I chose the name
because of you.
A haven near the forded stream.
A play on words, a poet's dream.
With the week and town behind,
it's
peace and solitude I find.
On music's wings you've carried me.
I thank you for your company.
Copyright ~ Redkite
A Song For
Volume Five
Goodbye One, Two, Three and Four,
we're on to Five, there will be more.
Lots of characters
to see,
like Sir Rhyd, Cymru and Mrs D.
All the poets have played a part,
with words Rhydspired and from the
heart.
Here for posterity in rhymes,
recording special Rhydian times.
Words of wisdom, wit and love,
fall
like sunbeams from above.
A hope, a memory, a dream,
expressed by Rhyd's poetic team.
May these Threads weave
cloth of gold,
as Rhydian's journey doth unfold.
To bring him laughter, love and joy,
the Muse, her magic will employ.
So
welcome all to Volume Five,
may poet's corner grow and thrive,
and in this Thread, may every guest,
feel love and
laughter, Rhydian blessed
Copyright ~ Redkite
A Thank You
Poem
From the honey skies of evening
mellow music softly falls.
A lullaby for newborn lambs,
curled
by the drystone walls.
Making music on the mountain.
Making music in the dell,
enriching scenes before me
and
pride within me swell.
Sing a duet with the birdsong.
Add your warm and wonderous tone.
Then as the darkness
deepens,
I'll hear your voice alone.
It carried me through winter.
It raised me to the skies.
It brought the
warmth of summer,
when tears were in my eyes.
It brought me to the dawning.
It faced me to the light.
It chased
away the frozen fear
that only comes with night.
It came from his voice, delighting.
It came from his heart's
desire.
From the world it once lay hidden,
carefully nurtured to inspire
Copyright ~ Redkite
The World Without
A Song
Imagine scenes of winter,
without a hint of snow
and the green of summer,
without a
flowering show.
Then imagine silence.
No lullabies at mother's breast,
to pave safe passage through the night,
when
laying baby down to rest.
Imagine autumn's falling leaves,
without their russet hues,
and less would be a springtime,
with
no blossom to infuse.
Then imagine silence.
No choir would we hear.
No Jerusalem, How Great Thou Art,
those hymns
that we hold dear.
To look up to the sky at night
and never see a star,
Hanging in darkest velvet.
A celestrial
candle lit afar.
Then look up to the mountains,
without a song of praise.
No tune to stir a county's soul.
No
anthem there to raise.
To look out across the ocean
and never sea a wave.
No crest of white a tumbling,
just
a still and silent grave.
Then look out at the many
who have found a voice so rare
and think how much we would have
missed,
if Rhydian's song had not been there.
So many have gone before him.
So many yet to come along,
to
make this world a better place,
with the gift, we call a song.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Clwydian Hills
are Rhydian Hills
You rise and fall across the land
in perfect undulation.
Peaks so high and
valleys low,
sing out in jubilation.
In winter crags are softened
in a pure white snowy cloak.
frosts sparkle
just like sequins
on a shimmering suit, bespoke.
Winds whistle through the rocky cwms,
your haunting melodies
entrap.
A voice adding to their mystery
enriching ancient harp.
On lofty heights you see forever
horizons
yet untried.
Each hill that lies before you
is a beacon and a guide.
The secret lake encircled
in the hollow
'neath the rise,
reflecting flawless summer blue.
then mirrored in your eyes.
They have heard the call to battle.
They
have heard the praise of choirs.
They have fanned the glowing embers
of deep patriotic fires.
Symbolic of a Country.
Protection
in times past.
Majestic, proud, enduring.
It's in their mould you're cast.
Surrounded by their beauty,
my
heart with passion fills.
Forever more you'll be to me,
My beloved Rhydian Hills.
Copyright ~ Redkite
My Wish For Volume 1V
May Volume 1V be yet inspired
by music, Man and Muse.
May it
nurture growing friendships,
its words with love infuse.
May each page be overflowing
with dreams and wishes
from the start.
To share with one another,
then to Rhydian impart.
May it show him we are here for him.
Raise
a laugh and bring a smile,
at the end of hectic hours,
when he finds time to rest awhile.
May we all move on
together
along this Rhydian road,
and if he's ever burdened,
we'll be here to share the load.
May Rhydian
always be the focus.
For it's he who sowed the seed,
which blossomed into poetry,
a gift for him to read.
May
those who come and glance awhile
feel welcomed and join in,
for every poem is valued, when
reflecting Rhydian joy
within.
May each simple word united
with Rhydian magic come alive
and when this Volume's finished,
we'll move
on to number five.
Come on everyone.. let's get this party started!!!.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Phantom Fantasy
The
mist hangs in the valley.
Silent coming, ere I woke.
Enfolding fields and farmsteads,
like a phantom's silver cloak.
Through
the sea of stillness,
flowing from the rocks on high,
came a voice to me, so haunting,
rippling air as it drew nigh.
A
hand reached out to lead me,
through a woody labyrinth wet.
He bid me sing a song with him,
locked in a strange duet.
We
sang beneath the mist decked trees
in a sensual swirling sway,
but when my heavy eyelids lifted,
the mist had carried
him away.
I still could hear his wonderous voice.
See the mask upon his face.
Hands reaching out to draw me
into
the phantom's strong embrace.
Did this really happen,or just
a dream born in my mind?.
If I walk this way tomorrow
will
there be any trace to find?.
I've searched within the woodland.
I've sat and listened for his call.
I've waited
in the twilight,
when the mist begins to fall.
I've wandered lonely hillsides,
heart open waiting for a sound.
It's
just the wind that sings there.
Of him no trace I found.
Though I look,I cannot find him,
but his song it stays
with me,
and the magic found in misty woods,
remains my Phantom fantasy.
Copyright ~ Redkite
A Change Of Plan
When Rhydian was just a boy
and his rugby ball,
his favourite toy.
What dreams and hopes were in his head?.
Each night when safely tucked in bed.
To play the
game on fields of gold,
the winning try converted bold.
Bedecked in firey dragon red,
his stalward team he proudly
led.
He had the skill, he had the touch,
fit for the game he loved so much,
but that was never meant to be.
Fame's
door required another key.
The key he chose unlocked a song.
A different path planned all along.
On stage not
field he'll find his goal
and play his part with heart and soul.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Images
I've looked into the fire
and played a childhood game.
Looking
for the images
to be found in coal and flame.
A bird, a cat a dragon
cast in the finest jet.
A crab a fish
a seahorse,
caught in a firey net.
But as the flames died lower
and the coals all turned to white,
the magic
too did fade away,
from visions which burned bright.
I've gazed upon the barren crags
with the sun a certain
slant
and seen so many different things,
but when I look again, I can't.
See those embracing lovers
sitting
in the sun's last ray.
The bear, the stag, the stallion,
they too have gone away.
It's just a trick the sun is
playing
with the tussocks, bush and stone.
Just sunlight, then the shadow
upon the rocky hilltop thrown.
Clouds
can play their own trick
as they change their form on high,
for today I chanced to look up
and saw Rhydian in the
sky.
A profile quite distinctive
with cloudy hair brushed high.
A perfect image was created,
in white against
blue sky.
A random natural work of art
made his image very clear,
but even as it formed for me,
it began to
disappear.
Would all, see the same image
cast in cloud and rock and fire.
Or are they visions of the mind,
that
with a dream conspire?.
Copyright ~ Redkite
Sir Rhyd,s
Retinue
It was in fair land of Lancashire
where Sir Rhydian held his Court
and looking at his
maidens fair,
he had a sudden thought.
Being a little tired of burly knights,
Sir Rhyd was ready for a change.
Fair
maids would form his retinue.
All things they would arrange.
The table it was round in shape
and with sword in
his hand,
he chose in turn one maiden from
where point of sword would land.
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir
Rhyd, my name's XueBai
and the task that I can offer you,
is with poems make you laugh, not cry".
"A worthy task
you offer,
come sit upon my knee.
You can start this very moment,
with tales of Mrs Dunwoody".
"You, fair
maid, tell me your name".
"Sir Rhyd, my name is Elouise.
I'll design you splendid garments
made from the finest cloth
with ease".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee.
Dressed in your fine creations,
a wonderous sight
I'll be".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir Rhyd, Rhydnut is my name.
I'll provide you with a Dragon,
to
protect you with her flame".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee.
Your Dragon will from this day forth,
provide
hot water for my tea".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir Rhyd, my name is vsj.
I'll tend with love your
horses,
each and every day".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee.
From henceforth my stallion
will
be magnificent to see".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Dear Sir, I'm Michellesfriend.
I can provide a
cheeky pastime,
when each day comes to an end".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee.
Will I need my
chainmail vest
when I'm in your company?".............Rocky Horror!!!
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir,
it's ThatWylieGirl, forsoothe.
I can tell you magic stories
created y my youth".
"A worthy task you offer,
come
sit upon my knee,
I'm sure each tale you tell me
will fill my heart with glee".
"You, fair maid, tell me your
name".
"Sir Rhyd, my name is jan.
I'll walk beside you and support you
and forever be your fan".
"A worthy task
you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
Loyal support is precious,
more so minus a fee".
"You, fair maid, tell me
your name".
"Sir Rhyd, Expat is what I'm called.
I'll fend off feline predators
and prevent you being mauled".
"A
worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
mad cats can be a problem.
Thank's for protecting me".
"You,
fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir, my name is Forrhydian K.
I'll offer you French{language}lessons
so you'll have
new Celtic word to say.
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
I'd love to talk in foreign tongue,
oh
yes,oui oui oui oui.
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"Sir, I'm rhydianfan number one.
I'll head your debating
society,
where we can talk til day is done".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
we'll discuss the
issues of the day
and beg to differ or agree".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"sir Rhyd, I'm Deeper K.
I'll
paint and draw and illustrate
your life in the finest way".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
select
your vibrant colours,
red, green and blue of sea".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"My Knight, I'm known
as Astralla.
I'll teach you of the Universe,
about each and every star".
"A worthy task you offer,
come sit upon
my knee,
tell me about the planets,
Mars, Earth and Mercury".
"You, fair maid, tell me your name".
"My name
Sir is Royston 33.
I can wave your standard high,
so your flag bearer I will be".
"A worthy task you offer,
come
sit upon my knee,
you can walk out there before me
as I travel wide this country".
"You, fair maid, tell me your
name".
"Sir, my name is Maestra, of the Rhydnut Clan
I'll play for you sweet music,
with many instruments, I can".
"A
worthy task you offer,
come sit upon my knee,
I look forward to your music played
in each and every key".
As
it may have now been noticed,
this tale is rather long
and the table's getting bigger
to include all who belong.
I
hope no maid has been left out,
whether or not to Bolton going.
By the time I get this all on line,
there really
is no knowing.
But hark, I hear a squawking
and the fluttering of wings.
With no seat left to sit on,
from
under table Redkite springs
"Tell me your name, my plump bird".
She cries, "I'm Redkite, I'm bereft.
The tasks
have all been taken
and now there's nothing left".
"No worthy task you offer,
but still perch upon my knee.
I'll
smooth your ruffled feathers,
then you can go and sit in tree".
Copyright ~ Redkite
A Plea To Sweden
Land of forests
and shimmering waters,
please restrain your blonde haired daughters,
and if you find that all else fails,
send our
Rhyd back home to Wales.
He may find your lakes beguiling,
and if he's happy, we are smiling,
but our Celtic
lad may find it cold
when Swedish winters take their hold.
With all we want to share his voice,
but if we really
had the choice.
He would not live across the foam,
but a little nearer home.
We hope knowing him has been rewarding,
while
he's been with you recording.
Offer him hospitality,
but don't forget our heartfelt plea!
Copyright ~
Redkite
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