High above the stone castle walls,
in a sun lit sky, she rides.
White sea gulls await the
evening tide.
Small white sails afloat.
Sunflowers as big as
washtubs grow next
to the water filled molt.
Black swans slowly sail,
children’s noise voices rail.
Dogs run, bark and wag their tails.
Fields of grain, yellow as glitter gold.
Peasants toil for each bushel picked and sold.
Free, free as the wind she sails.
High above a place called;
Wales.
Across the channel she flies,
on the back of the winged horse…
Pegasus, into another day, another
place, another dream on high.
See! Little girls can fly!