My Welsh Valley
J
Jayne Louise Davies
0
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Standing on the hillside,
Gazing at the view,
The valley I was born in,
Still fresh from the morning dew.
I look down on my village,
The mist, just starts to rise,
And in the far, far distance,
I hear a Vixens cries.
Sounds of people rising,
Starting a new day,
I wouldn't wish my hometown,
To be any other way.
As I start the steep slope down,
My little dog, by my side.
I welcome this lovely valley of mine,
With arms held, open wide.
Jayne Davies
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