WalesA Poem by David Lewis PagetFind me a coast where the sea rolls in And the shingles reach down to the shore,
Where the sand is as soft as a woman’s skin
And the cliffs are the ultimate law,
Where the rock pools are hid when the tide is up
And the sky is as grey as a stone,
Where the man of the land has a plentiful cup
And there I shall make my home.
Find me a land where the people speak
In a strange and a colourful tongue,
Find me a land where the seagull’s beak
Looks out, to comfort its young.
Find me a land where the men can sing
So fine, it tears the eye;
Find me the land I’m yearning
For there my bones will lie.
Find me a cottage, thatched with straw
And find me a blue-eyed maid,
My life shall I wander by the shore
With my wife in her pretty braid;
To watch white horses galloping in
Through all the winter gales,
Find me a coast where the sea rolls in,
Find me a land called Wales…
David Lewis Paget
© 2012 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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Added on February 27, 2008Last Updated on June 27, 2012 Author
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