As winter thors over hallowed groundssix nations wait on thunder pounds.In the cold air – an ancient battle call.In pain or glory – anthems sang loud,anthems stood tall.Red and Blue – marching separate towardthe same fight.Emerald Green or blood stained White.Flowing through the veins – a stubborn pride.A broken line, a wounded stride.Six nations –Continue reading “Six Nations”
Tag Archives: honour
At Times
I see that I’m lucky, to have a job. I know it is my honour, to call her my wife. I understand I’m blessed, they call me Daddy. It’s just at times I need to remind myself.
Smith Shine Poetry 