Kinsmen of the Past

Kinsmen of the Past



My soul cries out for a time gone by
When kinsmen walked beneath the sky
Music played and dance was had
Happy times and some were sad
Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons
Piping flutes and sounds of drums
Hands were strong and working hard
The earth was shared but never scarred
Where kinsmen worshipped, peace did reign
Within their souls a Celtic flame
They were my kinsmen and my tribe
In me, I’ll keep their souls alive

~ © Amelia Dashwood 2015


(Photo credit:


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