• David Sunderland


Yesterday the waves I rode

wistfully composed

a sentimental ode

Seizing the day was too much effort

planning a pain

my lazy soul did contort

So I opened the door

to the good old days

a warm glowing past

and comforting blaze

Sat by the fire with the hearth now cold

Lost I was but also found

on burnt but fertile healing ground

Sweet home came in the air, in a sound

hard it softened in a smile, in a bound

Meaning now, layer after layer

steel my self, my present, my prayer

And take, they will, my sweet trace

drilling down, my spirit, my grace

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