Alone in the quiet places of whispers,
Sighs and prayers where words
Are solemnly kept in black and white
I unfurl I unfurl I unfurl
In the gentle music of the rolling tide
At setting sun where the seagull soars
And cries of longing the freedom of the air
I unfurl, I unfurl, I unfurl
While the world sleeps in the dark
At night when people are still and silent
In the empty streets where raindrops are heard
I unfurl. I unfurl. I unfurl.
The wings of my mind soar on the winds of my dreams
And carry me away
In the quiet places I am free
I unfurl... I unfurl... I unfurl....
I like to write short stories which come from my Welsh roots with a sprinkle of magic and mysticism.
As an autistic person my poetry often reflects my experience of existence, and is an expression of being neurodiverse.
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E. Travelli 