I am she who feels her way
to dreams, sees to it that moon and stars
shine love’s guiding light
through layers of darkness to reveal
...
Dusk, a patchwork quilt spread
over trees and meadows;
Warren, set, foxhole, well hid
from prying eyes;
...
I am a dream kept alive
for centuries, through thick and thin,
peace and war,
harvest or famine, drought or flood,
...
Born to lead, fulfil, unite;
invariably, though, dividing,
losing sight of how many
chosen to fight on one side
...
They shot me down on foreign soil
and the first sound I heard was a child’s cry
at the moment of birth
and I wished the child and parents well,
...
There is a wood
where we played as children
and bluebells grow
...
Every poem begs a story from nature
of its power, glory, even shame,
whatever inspires, fuels high fires
of creativity; smouldering coals
...