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Soul Song
June 3, 2010
Tell me again, the words of the song,
the air is sweet, the day is long.
The heather bends, the grasses sway,
the daisies bloom each morn and greet the day.
Tell me again, the words of the rhyme,
the words of the elders, fallen out of time.
Old as the stars, wheeling through the sky,
simple as birdsong as morning draws nigh.
Sing to me again, the long-forgotten tune,
archaic as wolves crying out to the moon.
Constant as waves meeting with the shore,
haunting as wind-song heard across the moor.
© Rebecca G., Aylesbury, United Kingdom
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