Hiraethu

Don’t wish you’d left, Dear
When you might well wish you’d stayed
There in the distant streets
Memories of where we played

Maybe you’ve heard stories
Ads from a far-off land
Where the sunshine seems much brighter
White-toothed people perma-tanned

The allure of a different voice
Which speaks exciting words
And maybe in another ear
You’ll finally be heard

And yet your mind it whispers
Of the place held in your heart
The place your soul returns to 
At the end and from the start

Though maybe not the brightest
It’s still the warmest sun you’ve known
That early morning sunshine
On the doorstep of your home