Wild vibrant pink foxglove flower
Why do you grow on the cliff top overlooking the Gower?
Sprouting up between rocks ruins Of unforgiving crags;
Seeking a foothold in every minute In crack and crevice.
What shadows circle over head…
Could there be fairies here?
Searching for death
In the search for life?
My soul rides on the wings of these shadows,
It bleeds with echoing cries,
The thorns around you are many,
But you are not dulled by the rough shards.
My meager knowledge offers you little comfort,
Is that why you sit alone among the crags…
When you could dance in the sky
And among the white clouds
And laughing in your own brilliance.
Well, do not go on and hide
In your own little niche,
Struggling for each new crevice
In which to place your roots.
I will help you go on
Unrelenting, yet a little fragile,
Threatened by every breath of wind.
But you are the mountain flower that graces my sight,
I will marvel at your stong moss And be on the rocks with you.
So, if you choose to be on the rock,
Be strong and ever changing,
And I know you will perservere;
Even when you as you hold on
for life and while staring at death.
What can one do but live on the rocks?
When thoughts remain towards sky,
I am a dreamer
And a dreamer I will remain,
But always in love you.
Even with you against the weight of my heart,
Just like the foxglove flower, whom lives in the Gower.
For my best friend.
I love you.