A CONFLICT O' BLOOD II
A CONFLICT O’ BLOOD
**
‘Tis a conflict o’ blood.
Me gran’ fa’her wavin’ ‘is Welsh heritage,
tellin’ me, in ‘is peculiar Welsh way
“Go to the earth my son,
feel the heart beat o’ the universe”.
Deep wi’in a dark cavern o’ coal
a young Welsh lad answers wi’ ‘is heart
“Yes, gran’ fa’her, I can feel it”
The lad touches the stone and it
whispers to him.
**
Me sweet gran’ mo’her,
bless ‘er God lovin’ Irish heart,
sang to the lad of famine,
starvation on home sod.
Grievin’ mamas, daddys, bloated little bellies.
Stone cross reminders o’ heartache left behind.
The lad touches the cross and it
cries wi’ a whisper to him.
**
In a new land, far across boundin’ water.
The lad’s mo’her fills ‘is bowl with
fresh tatter soup.
Tatters the lad had dug tha’ very day.
Tatters tha’ had abandoned them all in ol’ Ireland.
The lad touches ‘is bowl smilin’,
‘cause the tatters whispered to him.
**
For the first time,
the coal, the cross, the tatters
no longer cried,
no longer whispered,
wi’ out words.
blended together
they loudly sang.
The young lad smiles
an’ wi’ ‘is peculiar Irish/Welsh accent
whispers back.
For the first time,
wi’ ‘is soul,
‘e understood.
**
By
SkyBrush
(About SkyBrush)
© 2002
SkyBrush
(All rights reserved)
| |