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Broggin
The school yard filled with teasing laughter,
Round and round they chased the sounds,
Playful banter, beyond derision,
       
The sounds of youth could be resolved.
Only once, then maybe twice,
A lilted note would slip forlorn.
A minor flaw that nature made,
Would cause me once again to mourn.
   
The words of Da and Ma still with me,
   
Say my ways are set and true.
Remind me of the bogs and marshes,
Tell me what I mean to you.
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Broggin
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