Mist descending over Abrahams bosom toward Holyhead mountain

Holy Island ‘Ynys Cybi’, gave birth to our poetic toils.
The landscape tutored our minds
the seascape tutors the sage
from whence the earthly and Divine
mingle on the page,
made near perfect over the years:
Half truths; prick up your spiritual ears,
To process our thoughts through soul:
An infinite glimpse into the mysteries
Of the sacred dwelling place, promises
To harmonise
the Isle of Mon, Heaven and the pen
Paradise on earth surmise .. our treatise!
by Liza Jones
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