Novelinee

From mists of Avalon she came in white
supernova who split my heart in two
and left untouched silence in endless night
no skyward star to guide my passage through.
While drinking wine I gave my love away
for whispered promises given out of lust,
believing hearts could breathe again today
my dreams now lie amid unwanted dust,
my heart shattered by betrayals of trust.

Sarah Rayburn

Sweet nightingale, unparalleled beauty,
my worldly thoughts will drown in idle words,
if I did not reflect the love I see,
and deny love is nought but food for birds.
I dream my arm is loosely round your waist,
so I shall hear divinity in your song,
and dream upon your eyes with loving haste,
to sip from lips of wine where I belong
and trust the sweetest breath will keep us strong.

With trust the sweetest breath to keep us strong,
my jewel of love to whom I grant my heart,
with words and smiles for days that seem so long,
so fate has cast the miles to keep apart.
In crystal vagaries we’re hand in hand,
whilst waterfalls cascade a rhythmic beat,
as when we kissed upon the golden sand,
below the rugged crags in love’s retreat,
our passion found in nature’s dancing feet.

When passion’s found in nature’s dancing feet,
above the greenest valleys, smile Black hills,
with fragrant flowers dazzling eyes shall meet,
where dragonflies commingle by the rills.
Your heart in truth a loving paradise,
where feelings flow and openly confess,
in daring glances tempting looks of ice,
for you, my love, are more than words express,
I can’t resist your spell of loveliness.

Sarah Rayburn

Across the bay where beauty waits for me,
beneath the sun-kissed mountain waterfalls,
enchanting eyes shall tame the wild and free,
my heart is bound by love as Cymru calls.
The cloudy blue of railway smoke dissolved
against the ageing roofing slates of old,
attractions mined before our time evolved,
and children chalked their words in letters bold,
when mountain streams still flowed with yellow gold.

The mountain streams that flowed with yellow gold,
and wrought the wedding bands of royal kings,
still whisper love and tales the bards oft told,
and magic echoes o’er the valleys and springs.
The land where dragons roam and wizards dwell,
where singing voices set our fathers free,
returning home my heart begins to swell,
rejoice my pride in Wales, her mystery,
across the bay her beauty stood by me.

Sarah Rayburn