The waves roll in, the shore is still,
A bell faintly calls from the distant hill.
A land once bright, now lost below,
Where echoes of love still softly glow.

The sea took you where I can’t tread,
A place unseen, where whispers are led.
My star, my light, how do I stay,
When the tides pull hard and steal the day?

Under the waves of Lyonesse,
Your voice, it lingers, a faint caress.
Clychau trist* call through the deep,
Where love is bound, but pain does seep.

I see your face in Tima’s* eyes,
The same bright spark that never dies.
But how to weave your story near,
When the loom of grief feels tangled here?

Under the waves of Lyonesse,
Your voice, it lingers, a faint caress.
Clychau trist call through the deep,
Where love is bound, but pain does seep.

Her laugh, her step, her tender hand,
They tether me to this shifting sand.
The threads of life I must repair,
To hold her close, though you’re not there.

Under the waves of Lyonesse,
Your voice, it lingers, a faint caress.
Clychau trist call through the deep,
Where love is bound, but pain does seep.

The bell tolls low, yet the sound grows bright,
A guide through the storm, a steadfast light.
My star, my love, I feel you near,
In her small hands, in each falling tear.

The waters calm, the horizon gleams,
A thread of gold through fractured dreams.
Though Lyonesse is lost to view,
The love we wove will still shine true.

Under the waves of Lyonesse,
Your voice, it lingers, a faint caress.
Clychau trist call through the deep,
Where love is bound, but hope must leap.

So I will walk this shore once more,
With her small steps, we’ll both explore.
The bell still rings, its tune is clear,
A song of love, forever near.

Through the waves of Lyonesse,
The tides may pull, but I confess,
Your light still shines, a guide to see,
The love that binds eternity.

The lanterns waited on the hill,
In baskets, gold with paper light,
We held her hand against the chill,
Our breath like clouds in autumn’s night.
The town had gathered, soft and still,
By Ebbw’s banks where waters glide,
A hundred memories to fulfill,
In flames that whispered where they’d hide.

“Cariad bach, cariad byth”,
We float our hearts on rivers slow,
To hold the love, to let it drift,
Rhwng y ser, it still will glow.

We met old neighbors, smiles were shy,
Cups of cider, warm and sweet,
Their voices carried on the sky,
Through falling leaves and lantern’s heat.
She held a flame, her tiny hands,
“Will it reach Mam?” she softly said,
And as it sailed across the sands,
We watched its light, a path it led.

And through the reeds, the river sighed,
A thousand wishes, side by side.

“Cariad bach, cariad byth”,
We float our hearts on rivers slow,
To hold the love, to let it drift,
Rhwng y ser, it still will glow.

The night grew still, the stars appeared,
The lanterns fading, drifting far,
And though the dark was always near,
It could not reach her shining star.
A friend came laughing through the dusk,
A grin, a hand, an autumn cheer,
Together now, with moonlit trust,
We turned and left the river’s tear.

Back to the house, the fire glowed,
Their little coats hung by the door,
The room was quiet; voices low,
But love still echoed on the floor.
A tale her mother used to weave,
Of silent seas where shadows sleep,
He turned the pages, made-believe,
And watched them drift to dreams so deep.

“Cariad bach, cariad byth”,
We float our hearts on rivers slow,
To hold the love, to let it drift,
Rhwng y ser, it still will glow.

“Twinkle soft, my little light,
In dreams we sail this endless sea.
You’re here, you’re here, on autumn nights—
You’re all the stars that shine through me.”

A step through the door, the warmth feels thin,
The hum of conversation hides what’s within.
An empty chair at the table, her place erased,
The room blooms with silence, her memory displaced.

The wreath hangs on the doorway, adorned with cheer,
But no one dares to mention her, not this year.
Their laughter carries lightly, a brittle, hollow sound,
He scans the room for traces, but none are to be found.

In the room where silence blooms, where her name won’t grow,
The shadows hold the stories they refuse to show.
A garden left untended, her roots still deep inside,
But the silence blooms in whispers, where the truth is forced to hide.

The lights upon the tree, they shimmer cold and clear,
Reflecting all the faces that pretend she wasn’t here.
He grips his cup in stillness, the cider’s warmth now gone,
The weight of words unspoken lingers on and on.

“Does love fade in silence, or echo through the years?
Is her light still shining, despite their quiet fears?”

In the room where silence blooms, where her name won’t grow,
The shadows hold the stories they refuse to show.
A garden left untended, her roots still deep inside,
But the silence blooms in whispers, where the truth is forced to hide.

He steps outside the chatter, the air bites his skin,
The night holds all the memories they keep locked within.
He speaks her name so softly, the stars seem to reply,
Her light still weaves through darkness, though they let her die.

Every chair has a shadow, every heart bears its weight,
The silence here is deafening, yet love does not abate.
The blooms of grief are thorned, yet their beauty still survives,
A quiet, steadfast garden where her memory thrives.

The room returns to quiet as he slips back inside,
He carries her within him, where no silence can divide.
The laughter sounds so distant, a world he cannot share,
Yet her light burns ever brighter in the love he chooses to bear.

In the room where silence blooms, where her name won’t grow,
The shadows hold the stories they refuse to show.
A garden left untended, her roots still deep inside,
But the silence blooms in whispers, where the truth is forced to hide.

When the candles flicker softly, and the night begins to fade,
He finds her in the stillness, where their bond was made.
Though they may never speak it, her name’s etched in his heart,
And in the room where silence blooms, she’s never truly apart.

The room may hold its silence, but love will always bloom,
In the garden of remembrance, where her soul resumes.

The night hangs heavy, the air bites cold,
Lights from windows, stories untold.
The streets are hushed, the echoes fade,
A distant song where memories played.

Left the warmth, laughter, the glow,
The sounds of night now I know.
Fireworks spark, yet there in me,
Their fading embers, a bitter sea.

Twinkle, twinkle, little sun,
My heart, my love, my only one.
Sailor of the starry night,
Dad is here, I'll hold you tight.

Past icy panes and frosty ground,
A silent breeze, no one around.
The trees stand bare, the stars so clear,
Your voice, my light, I almost hear.

Do you see me from above,
Watching with your endless love?
A beacon bright, a sailor’s flare,
I walk ahead because you’re there.

Twinkle, twinkle, little sun,
Through time and season, my little one.
Sailor of the starry night,
My daughter, Lleuad's light.

I see your hands as they once reached,
For sparklers bright, for dreams you’d teach.
The frost reflects a fleeting smile,
Your love endures each lonely mile.

The stars above, they hold your gaze,
Their light now sets my path ablaze.
I feel your whispers in the air,
A love eternal, beyond despair.

Twinkle, twinkle, little sun,
My guiding star, the endless one.
Sailor of the starry night,
Together we’ll face the coming light.

In the stillness, I feel you near,
A quiet voice that calms my fear.
“Dad, I'm right here; You’re not alone"
Through the tide, The sunflowers seed was sown.

The door is close, the night’s grown late,
But love transcends the hands of fate.
I hum our song beneath the sky,
A lullaby that cannot die.

Sparkle, sparkle in the sky,
Though time and seasons pass us by.
Tima, sailor of the starry night,
My daughter, my heart, Lleuad's light.

The morning light crept through the pane,
Her little curls against my chest,
We’d drifted off in fire’s flame,
The story closed, and hearts at rest.
A sleepy voice, a tiny yawn,
“Baba, wake, the day is here!”
She tugged my sleeve, and we were gone,
The garden waits, its weeds appear.

A garden grows, a garden stays,
Through seasons lost, through autumn haze.
It whispers soft of things we’ve kept,
Of blooms we loved and seeds we’ve wept.

She toddled close, her boots askew,
Her laughter broke the morning still,
“Baba, flowers! Hide and seek!”
She found a bloom, where weeds could kill.
My hands dug deep, the roots fought back,
A tangled mess of thorn and vine,
But in her hands, a rose intact,
Its petals red, like love divine.

A garden grows, a garden stays,
Through seasons lost, through autumn haze.
It whispers soft of things we’ve kept,
Of blooms we loved and seeds we’ve wept.

She turned to me, dirt on her face,
“Baba, who left these flowers here?”
I paused, my heart, a fragile place,
“They grew from love we hold so near.”

We cleared a patch, the soil laid bare,
Where daisies danced in morning dew.
She hummed a tune, her mother’s air,
A sound so soft, a memory true.
I wiped my brow, the sun rose high,
The garden breathing, tender still,
Each thorn, each leaf, beneath the sky,
Held voices silent, yet fulfilled.

A garden grows, a garden stays,
Through seasons lost, through autumn haze.
It whispers soft of things we’ve kept,
Of blooms we loved and seeds we’ve wept.

She found a stone, a hidden name,
Half buried, mossed with time and rain.
She traced it slow, with fingers small,
“Baba, a treasure!” her soft call.
I knelt beside her, smiled and said,
“Some treasures bloom where we can’t see,
They wait for hands, so small, so red,
To tend their roots and set them free.”

She turned to me, her voice so light,
“Baba, will flowers stay for good?”
I kissed her hair, the world so bright,
“They’ll bloom as long as love has stood.”

A garden grows, a garden stays,
Through seasons lost, through autumn haze.
It whispers soft of things we’ve kept,
Of blooms we loved and seeds we’ve wept.

A quiet voice whispers:
“The garden waits, my little one,
In love we grow, though days are done.”

A tug on his blanket, a small hand in the light,
“Come on, Daddy, it’s morning, it’s bright!”
Through frost-touched windows, the world looks new,
A day to shape together, for me and you.

Her laughter echoes through the morning air,
The sparkle of snowflakes caught in her hair.
They walk past the baker’s, the church bells chime,
Each step on the cobblestones feels frozen in time.

Shaping clay, the memories stay,
Tiny hands mold what words can’t say.
Through love and laughter, they find their way,
Shaping clay, here to stay.

The studio hums with a quiet charm,
The fire in the kiln keeping them warm.
She shapes a star with a focused frown,
“This one’s for Mommy,” she says, looking down.

“Will she see it, Daddy? From her starry place?”
He smiles and nods, brushing a tear from his face.

Shaping clay, the memories stay,
Tiny hands mold what words can’t say.
Through love and laughter, they find their way,
Shaping clay, here to stay.

They leave the studio as the sun dips low,
Her little hands clutching treasures to show.
The town’s lights twinkle, the frost bites the air,
Each street feels alive with the love they share.

The shapes we make, the stories we tell,
Each curve, each line, a quiet farewell.
Yet in the clay, our love remains,
In every star, in every frame.

Back in the cabin, creations displayed,
Stars and hearts by the firelight laid.
She curls on his chest, whispers so small,
“Daddy, she’ll love it—she’ll see it all.”

Shaping clay, the memories stay,
Tiny hands mold what words can’t say.
Through love and laughter, they find their way,
Shaping clay, here to stay.

The fire burns low, her breathing slows,
Outside, the frost sparkles, the moonlight glows.
In the quiet of night, he softly prays,
“May this love we’ve shaped light her way.”

The shapes they made will always remain,
A bond through the seasons, through joy and pain.

A faint breeze stirs the morning still,
The whisper of a far-off thrill.
A place once ours, now time’s to claim,
Yet echoes linger, soft, the same.

The path we tread, the winding lane,
The trees, they bow, but not in vain.
Her laughter hung within the breeze,
Now tucked away among the leaves.
"Where did she go, Baba?" she asked,
Her voice a tether to the past.
“She’s here,” I said, my heart unsure,
“In winds, in earth—forever more.”

Hiraeth calls, soft and low,
A pull of things we used to know.
Heretofore, the past may stay,
But love, my star, will find a way.

We crossed the bridge, the creek below,
Its song the same as long ago.
"Did Mama walk here too?" she said,
Her little boots on stones she tread.
“Yes, my love, she walked this trail,
Through rain, through sun, through winter’s gale.”
Her tiny hands held mine so tight,
A lantern glowing in the night.

Hiraeth calls, soft and low,
A pull of things we used to know.
Heretofore, the past may stay,
But love, my star, will find a way.

The winds, they speak, of what’s been lost,
But carry too, what love embossed.
We stood and listened, still and true,
The past is gone, but not with you.

The field we found, her favorite place,
Where flowers danced in quiet grace.
We lay and stared at skies above,
Our hearts alive with endless love.
"Baba," she said, "Do stars forget?"
I smiled and said, "Not one, not yet."
The wind, it kissed her face so kind,
A fleeting touch of time aligned.

Hiraeth calls, soft and low,
A pull of things we used to know.
Heretofore, the past may stay,
But love, my star, will find a way.

The day gave way to twilight’s glow,
We lingered where her garden grows.
The past and present intertwine,
In love, we trace a sacred line.
“Goodnight, my star,” her tiny yawn,
We headed home as dusk withdrew.
The memories stayed, but so did we,
Together, whole, as one and new.

The breeze grew still, the world at rest,
With hiraeth nestled in my chest.
Her voice, her laugh, the echoes play,
But love remains, and finds its way.

“Tima, little sun, do you hear them too?
The bells, they toll as if for you.
A song from the deep, where shadows stay,
Whispering your name in the cold of this day.”

The room is alight, but I can’t remain,
Each laugh and cheer like gale cold rain.
I step outside to the nights frosted air,
Searching for you, though you’re not there.

Clychau trist, from the depths they call,
A melody of echoes, a rise, a fall.
Lleuads light in the cold night’s breath,
Guides me through the echoes of death.

The bells seem louder with each soft chime,
Carrying me back through the threads of time.
“Tima,” I whisper, “do you hear their plea?
Do they sing for you, or is it me?”

Each toll wraps around my weary heart,
A reminder that love never truly departs.

Clychau trist, their haunting refrain,
A hymn for you my little sun, through joy and pain.
They rise from shadows, they toll for the sea,
A melody of love that sets me free.

“I spoke to you tonight, my sweet little one,
Though the crowd carried on, their revelry spun.
I found you in the bells, the night’s quiet grace,
Your laughter lingers in every space.”

The bells pull me back, but not in despair,
For in their tolls, I know you are there.
Your love a lantern, guiding my way,
A star in the dark that will never fade.

Clychau trist, not sorrow’s decree,
But the sound of love that sets us free.
Your name in each tolling sound,
A melody of hope that knows no bounds.

I rejoin the warmth, though the silence remains,
The bells still echo in soft refrains.
Their song a tether that binds you near,
A lullaby only a father can hear.

English

The woods are white, the air so still,
The frost weaves patterns on the hill.
Tiny breaths, a winter’s tune,
Beneath the pale and quiet moon.

He carries her, so small, so light,
Her coos a song against the night.
"Is it cold, Baba?" she sighs,
“No colder, love, than long goodbyes.”
Each step they take, the snow gives way,
A path that whispers yesterday.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, soft and slow,
Each flake a story, each step we know.
Through frost and silence, we still go,
Together, love, we’ll find the glow.

The trees, they hum in whispers deep,
Of dreams that wander, but never sleep.
"Baba," she coos, "Do trees feel pain?"
“They hold their strength through snow and rain.”
His hand, so warm, around hers tight,
Guides her through the endless white.

The snow, it falls, a quiet shroud,
Yet through the stillness, hearts beat loud.
A winter’s grief, a fragile grace,
Yet love endures in every space.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, soft and slow,
Each flake a story, each step we know.
Through frost and silence, we still go,
Together, love, we’ll find the glow.

She reaches out with tiny hands,
To catch the flakes where frost expands.
"Baba," she laughs, "They melt so fast!"
“They do, my star, but memories last.”
The woods give way to open skies,
And there, they see the moon arise.

The frost beneath, the stars above,
Each step they take, a bond of love.
"Baba," she coos, her eyes so bright,
“Are snowflakes stars?” “Yes, in the night.”
They pause, they breathe, the silence deep,
A winter’s gift they vow to keep.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, soft and slow,
Each flake a story, each step we know.
Through frost and silence, we still go,
Together, love, we’ll find the glow.

The snow falls still, the world serene,
A canvas painted white and clean.
Through frost and silence, grief will fade,
Yet love, my star, will never stray.

-------------------------------

Original welsh

Mae’r coed yn wyn, yr awyr ddistaw,
Eira’n gwehyddu patrwm dirgel,
Anadl fach, cân gaeafol,
O dan y lleuad tawel a chlir.

Mae’n ei chario hi, mor ysgafn a bach,
Ei chwtsh yn gân, yn erbyn y gwynt.
"A yw’n oer, Baba?" hi’n chwilio,
“Dim oerach, cariad, na’r ffarwél hir.”
Bob cam yn torri eira’n llonydd,
Llwybr sy’n sibrwd ddoe yn glir.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, yn dyner ac yn araf,
Pob fflur yn stori, pob cam yn hyderus.
Trwy’r rhew a’r distawrwydd, rydym yn mynd,
Gyda’n gilydd, cariad, fe ddaw’r goleuni.

Mae’r coed yn canu’n dywyll ac yn dawel,
Breuddwydion yn crwydro, heb eu hangof byth.
"Baba," mae hi’n gofyn, "Ydy coed yn teimlo?"
“Maen nhw’n dal eu nerth drwy’r eira a’r glaw.”
Ei law’n gynnes yn ei llaw mor dynn,
Yn eu harwain drwy’r byd eiraog hwn.

Mae’r eira’n cwympo, lledrithiol a chlir,
Er trwy’r distawrwydd, mae calonau’n byrlymu.
Galar y gaeaf, grac a bregus,
Ond mae cariad yn byw ym mhob lle.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, yn dyner ac yn araf,
Pob fflur yn stori, pob cam yn hyderus.
Trwy’r rhew a’r distawrwydd, rydym yn mynd,
Gyda’n gilydd, cariad, fe ddaw’r goleuni.

Mae hi’n estyn ei dwylo bach,
I ddal yr eira, lle rhew yn ymestyn.
"Baba," mae hi’n chwerthin, "Maen nhw’n toddi’n gyflym!"
“Ydyn, fy seren, ond mae atgofion yn para.”
Mae’r coed yn ildio i’r awyr eang,
A’r lleuad yn codi yn ei bryd llawn.

Y rhew o dan ein traed, y sêr uwchben,
Pob cam yn bond cryf o gariad.
"Baba," mae hi’n cooio, ei llygaid mor ddisglair,
“A yw eira’n sêr?” “Ydyn, yn y nos.”
Maen nhw’n aros, yn anadlu’r tawelwch dwfn,
Anrheg gaeaf maen nhw’n addo’i gadw’n ddiogel.

Mae hi’n bwrw eira, yn dyner ac yn araf,
Pob fflur yn stori, pob cam yn hyderus.
Trwy’r rhew a’r distawrwydd, rydym yn mynd,
Gyda’n gilydd, cariad, fe ddaw’r goleuni.

Mae’r eira’n dal i gwympo, y byd mor heddychol,
Canfas wedi ei beintio’n wyn a phurdeb.
Trwy’r rhew a’r distawrwydd, mae’r hiraeth yn lleddfu,
Ond mae cariad, fy seren, byth yn crwydro.

The frost laces the morning air,
He pulls his coat tight, but nothing's there.
Through Cwmcarn woods, the paths untread,
Each step whispers of words unsaid.

Past the murmuring Ebbw’s gentle flow,
Through Risca’s hills where the holly grows.
His boots crunch frost, the cold bites deep,
This hollow walk, a grief to keep.

Holly, hold me, cradle my tears,
A sanctuary for love and fears.
In your shade, I can lay it bare,
The world’s too distant, but you are there.

Family gathered, yet miles apart,
Words of comfort, but none from the heart.
Each kind façade, a wall in disguise,
He finds no solace in hollowed lies.

But here in the hollow, the wind speaks true,
It carries her laughter, it carries her hue.

Holly, hold me, cradle my tears,
A sanctuary for love and fears.
In your shade, a world too fair,
The world’s too distant, none to share.

The branches arch like arms to enfold,
A quiet cathedral in the winter’s cold.
He kneels by the hollow, fingers trace the bark,
Each line a memory, each scar a mark.

It’s not the touch of hands long gone,
But here in this hollow, he feels her song.
The earth beneath, the skies above,
Speak softly of loss, but louder of love.

The hollow breathes, the holly sways,
Through shifting winds and fleeting days.
Though grief still lingers, he stands to go,
The hollow whispers, “You’re not alone.”

Holly, hold me, cradle my tears,
A sanctuary for love and fears.
In your shade, unyealding light,
The world’s too distant, in your might.

Back to the hollow, through frost and rain,
For here in its stillness, he finds her again.

In the quiet of the room, the magazine in hand,
Her mother traced the pages, space, stars, constellations appear like cosmic sand.
“Jupiter,” she murmured, “a king with moons so vast,
Each one a daughter spinning, their stories told to last.”

The father leaned in closer, pointing to a blur,
“Elara, small but mighty, as something starts to stir.”
Her eyes lit up with wonder, the stars within her gaze,
“Names are gifts,” he whispered, “carried through all days.”

By the hearth’s glowing fire, they lingered in the night,
Her mother dreaming softly of moons bathed in light.
"Elara when you're ready" she said humming a tune,
"My love for you is endless, Tima little moon"

Elara, little moon, circling cosmic grace,
In the shadow of the heavens, you find your rightful place.
A daughter of the universe, shining quiet, strong,
Your name, a song of stardust, where galaxies belong.

Years passed like fleeting comets; through cymcarn then they strolled,
Through the golden autumn leaves, the winds both sharp and cold.
Her small friend greeted warmly, “Elara!” they exclaimed,
The father paused and asked her, “Tima, Do you like that name?”

“It’s a moon of a king, a daughter in the sky,
A tiny light eternal, where endless echoes lie.”

Elara, my little moon, circling cosmic grace,
In the shadow of the heavens, you find your rightful place.
A daughter of the universe, with starlight in your stride,
Your name, a gift of wonder, a beacon and a guide.

That night beneath the twilight, he read her from the book,
Of Star Sailors bold and brave, the journeys that they took.
The sailor reached the daughters, their voices clear and bright,
And Elara stood among them, a lantern in the night.

Oh, stars that hold our names, oh, moons that light the way,
In the orbits of forever, love never fades away.
Through shadow and through brilliance, your name will always soar,
Elara, tiny beacon, forever and evermore.

As the night grew quiet, they walked a path of dreams,
The forest held their whispers, the stars a silver gleam.
“Dad, Why do you tell these stories, of moons and stars so bright?”
He knelt to her and answered, “Tima, They remind me of your light.”

Elara, my little moon, circling cosmic grace,
In the shadow of the heavens, you find your rightful place.
A daughter of the universe, with courage shining through,
Your name, a thread eternal, that binds the stars to you.

Back home the fire crackled; she drifted into sleep,
Her tiny hand in his, a memory to keep.
He gazed out at the darkness, the stars a quiet tune,
Elara, you are my daughter, my heart, my little moon.

Through the forest, through the skies, her name will always soar,
Elara, tiny light, forever and evermore

In the quiet night, under a sea of stars,
The desert hums of stories afar.
“Tima,” he calls, her name like a breeze,
Whispers of love through the swaying trees.

The camels rest in their moonlit peace,
While the desert sings, its voice won’t cease.
Through soft sands, they quietly tread,
Towards the oasis where moonlight is spread.

The desert whispers, ancient and wise,
Tima, my light, my heart’s sunrise.
Your name, like a song, carries on the wind,
A gift of love where the stars begin.

"یہ تحفہ لو، یہ ہماری عزت ہے
تمہاری روشنی کے لئے، یہ محبت ہے
بیٹی، چلو، ستاروں کے پیچھے چلیں
تمہارے خواب، ہماری دنیا میں جئیں"

The djinn whispered, their voices so true,
Tima, my world, they honored you.
A miracle born in the sands’ embrace,
Your light eternal, no time can erase.

He kneels and offers gifts to the air,
The djinn shimmer, unseen but there.
“They came to your mother, one silent night,
With a name like a star, so pure, so bright.”

“Your light, my star, the desert’s embrace,
In every whisper, your soul has a place.
Elara, your name, a beacon so clear,
In love and in hope, you’re always near.”

Under the desert’s vast, endless dome,
The djinn’s whispers feel like home.
Your name lingers in the wind tonight,
Born of love, where the desert shines bright.

تم خواب دیکھو، ہماری دعائیں سنو
ہر رات میں تمہاری روشنی کا نشان ہو
ایلارا، ہماری محبت، ہمارا دل
تمہاری کہانی، ہمیشہ سنہرے پل

Tima, my love, the desert’s refrain,
A name whispered softly, through joy and pain.
A light in the sands, where stars align,
Forever yours, as you are mine.

ایلارا، میری روشنی، میرا خواب
تم ہماری محبت ہو، ہماری دعاؤں کا جواب
تمہاری کہانی، صحرا کی راتوں میں
ہمیشہ رہے گی، ہماری دعاؤں میں

The cobblestones beneath my feet,
Echo of days when we’d often meet.
Polperro’s air, a salty sigh,
Carries your name where the gulls still fly.

The harbor murmurs its timeless tune,
Under the watchful eye of the afternoon.
Your tiny hand once held in mine,
Tracing the shoreline, erasing time.

Oh, Tima, the long, long longing flows,
Through tides, through winds, where memory grows.
You’re in the salt, the sun’s soft glow,
A love eternal, though time must go.

Peter joins with a quiet smile,
We speak of you, it's been a while.
He recalls your joy, your light, your song,
As if you’ve been here all along.

And the waves, they hum your laughter’s call,
A melody woven through it all.

Oh, Tima, the long, long longing guides,
Through the harbor’s paths, through the moonlit tides.
You’re in the breeze, in the stories we share,
In every step, you’re always there.

We pass the café by the harbor’s edge,
The scent of salt and tea intersperse.
Peter tells of the festival’s light,
How you marveled at lanterns igniting the night.

The tide ebbs, the sea remains,
Carrying whispers, soft refrains.
Through love and longing, through joy and ache,
We hold you close, for love’s own sake.

Oh, Tima, the long, long longing stays,
In the ebb and flow of Polperro’s bays.
You’re in the stars, in the seal’s lone cry,
A love unbroken, where memories lie.

The sun dips low, the colors fade,
Peter and I watch the evening cascade.
Your footprints gone, but not your grace,
Your spirit lingers in this sacred space.