- You know, if you listen closely, the wind hums a tune.
Maybe it’s the Tylwyth Teg, playing their harps in the hills.
Or maybe it’s just the trees whispering secrets!
-- Or ghosts!
- Maybe all of the above… ready for a story?

Footsteps crunch, past the stone and the ferns,
Riscan sky where the seagulls turn.
Voices laugh, shoes scuff the trail,
Lost in the rhythm of an old folk tale.
Dad spins words like a weaver’s thread,
Tylwyth Teg dance where the bracken spreads.
A tune hums soft in the autumn air,
She hums it back, like it’s always there.

She’s still singing, still swaying,
That old song’s still playing.
Through the hills, through the trees,
Carried on the ocean breeze.

Down past the ruins, where the ivy creeps,
Follow the stream where the water speaks.
She jumps the stones, hands held high,
Shouting a wish to the open sky.
Dad laughs, says "Be careful there!"
Her friend just grins, wind in her hair."
Bet the fairies grant your wish tonight,
But only if you dance in the pale moonlight!

She’s still singing, still swaying,
That old song’s still playing.
Through the waves, through the mist,
A melody you can’t resist.

Twilight falls, golden glow fades,
Footsteps slow near the stone arcades.
Dad's voice softer, like echoes past,
"Once, a girl danced here, held the magic fast."
She stops, eyes wide, still,Fingers trace the carvings on the hill.
"Think she’s still around?"
A song on the wind, a lingering sound.

Hush now, listen, hear it call,
Like a voice just beyond the wall.
A song she knew, a song she kept,
A song that never truly left.

She’s still singing, still swaying,
That old song’s still playing.
Through the dark, through the light,
Through the stars that shine at night.

- Funny how songs don’t really go away, huh?
-- Yeah… it’s like they wait for you to hum them back.
Maybe she’s still dancing… somewhere.

Walking home, mist on the ground,
That tune still lingers, a haunting sound.
She takes Dad’s hand, squeezes tight,
Lost in the hush of the silver night.
Echoes of laughter, echoes of song,
Fairy tales fading, but never gone.
She hums it low, she hums it clear,
As if she knows it’s still near.

She’s still singing, still swaying,
That old song’s still playing.
Through the hills, through the trees,
Carried on the ocean breeze.

- Songs stay, even when the singers don’t.
- Yeah… and maybe, so do stories.
- Or fairies.
- Or all of the above...

The golden light flickers through the curtains in the early Riscan morn. A father is fast asleep when a small hand nudges his shoulder.

Dad, wake up! The scones won’t bake themselves!
- Five more minutes…
Come on, you promised! And Eira’s waiting!

Sunrise creeping, light through the pane,
Little feet tapping, calling my name.
Out of the blankets, rubbing my eyes,
She’s got that grin, no chance to lie.
Grab my coat, grab the flour,
Meet at the gate in half an hour.
Up the canal path, hand in hand,
Spring in the air, fresh like the land.

Past the daffodils, golden bright,
Eira's waiting by the garden light.
Took you long enough! she grins,
We’ll miss the scones if we don’t begin!
Up the towpath, over the stile,
Chasing shadows, laughing wild.
Community center’s doors swing wide,
Smell of cinnamon, warm inside.

Bara Brith and buttered scones,
Warm in our hands, soft in our bones.
Stories shared, laughter free,
Simple joys, a cup of tea.

Tables lined, flour flies,
Hands in dough, big wide smiles.
We're all here,
Recipes passed down year by year.
Butter melts, sugar sprinkles,
Orange zest, raisin twinkles.
Tea in kettles, steam in air,
Magic moments, love and care.

Dad says his mam used to make these every Sunday.
Do you think they taste like hers did?
- Maybe... but every batch has a story, and today’s is ours.

Bara Brith and buttered scones,
Warm in our hands, soft in our bones.
Stories shared, laughter free,
Simple joys, a cup of tea.

Dishes stacked, crumbs on the floor,
Sun’s slipping down, time to close the door.
Farewells called, coats put on,
Lanterns flicker as we walk along.
Back through the village, past the trees,
Smell of woodsmoke on the breeze.
Eira waves, See you soon,
Under the silver rising moon.

Bara Brith and buttered scones,
Warm in our hands, soft in our bones.
Memories baked, love passed down,
Like embers glowing in this town.

Dad, do you think we’ll bake again next week?
- Of course, love. Some things are worth making over and over again.

Early summer morning, the garden bathed in golden light. Uncle Peter sits with a cup of tea, gazing at the hills.

- Morning, Pete. Already lost in the hills?
-- Aren’t we all? Just watching the mist roll off Twmbarlwm… Perfect morning for a trip.
We’re really going today, right? To Greenacres?... You promised!
- Of course, little sun. Let’s get moving before the whole day escapes us.

Packing up, boots in the trunk,
Tea still steaming, bags in a bunch.
Rolling down roads where the hedgerows lean,
Hills stretch wide, painted in green.
Windows open, air smells wild,
Peter laughs, Still a curious child?
What’s the first star?
How far’s the moon?
She fires off questions, answers come soon.

Forest of Dean, campsite near,
Gravel crunches, we’re finally here.
Tents go up, firewood stacked
Peter hums as he leans right back.
Stories tonight, you better be ready.
She grins, hands on her hips, standing steady.
Rivers run close, oaks stand tall,
Crows call high, dusk starts to fall.

Counting stars, counting time,
Under the sky, where the world unwinds.
Every spark, every glow,
Holds a story we’ll never know.

Campfire burns, marshmallows roast,
Peter starts in on an old Welsh ghost.
Long ago, by the River Wye,
A man tried to map the whole night sky.
She listens close, eyes wide, no fear,
Echoes of time still hanging near.
Did he finish? Did he write them all
Peter just shrugs, lets the nightfall call.

Maybe some stars are too big to name.
- Maybe some things aren’t meant to be tamed.

Counting stars, counting time,
Under the sky, where the world unwinds.
Every spark, every glow,
Holds a story we’ll never know.

- The sky we see tonight? It’s the past. Some of those stars, they’ve already gone.
But we can still see them.
- Exactly, love. Nothing’s ever really gone.

Night runs slow, embers dim,
A fox moves silent past the rim.
Peter hums, lost in thought,
Time moves fast, yet feels like it’s caught.
She yawns, leans close, curls in tight,
Wrapped in the hush of the endless night.

Counting stars, counting time,
Under the sky, where the world unwinds.
Every spark, every glow,
Holds a story we’ll never know.

- Sleep tight, my star. The stars will still be here when you wake up.
…and so will you?
- Always.

Item description- That was a good day, wasn’t it?
Cardiff, the market, the castle… bet your feet are tired now.
Nope! We should walk home! It’s too nice for the bus!
- All the way? Up the canal walk? That’s a long one, love.
I’m not scared! And we might see otters!
- Alright then, the long way it is.

Off the train, Newport lights glow,
Feet hit the pavement, nowhere to go.
Day full of laughter, market stalls bright,
Castle stood tall in the morning light.
But now the sun's hanging low in the west,
Still too warm to let the night rest.
No rush, no ride, no need to roam,
We'll take the long way home.

Past the old docks, down by the quay,
Lanterns flicker where the river plays free.
Canal path calls, soft earth, stone,
Water runs quiet where the willows have grown.
She skips ahead, arms out wide,
Counting the ripples, chasing the tide.
Look, a heron! Quiet now, see? She whispers low, pulling on me.
Dragonflies dart where the reeds stand tall,
Minnows scatter by the old stone wall
Owls start calling as dusk takes hold,
Sky draped deep in lilac and gold.

Take the long way, slow and free,
Through the woods, by the sea.
Hand in hand, step by step,
These are the days we won’t forget.

Shadows stretch, streetlamps hum,
Fox darts quick where the brambles run.
She hums an old tune, soft and clear,
A song I once sang in her toddler years.
Bridge up ahead, water runs black,
Ripples break where the otters track.
Dad, do you think they know our names?
Maybe they do, wild things play games.
We stop, breathe in, lanterns glow,
Steps slowing where moonlight flows.

I love this walk, I don’t want it to end.
- Some roads never really do, love. We just keep walking them in our hearts.

[CHORUS 2 (Sung, More Harmonic, Dreamlike)]
Take the long way, slow and free,
Through the woods, by the sea.
Hand in hand, step by step,
These are the days we won’t forget.

Night folds in, stars shine bright,
Breath turns mist in the silver light.
Footsteps softer, the world so still,
Just us, the trees, the air so chill.

Crosskeys passed, lights in sight,
Cottage waiting, warm and bright.
Door swings open, firelight glows,
She kicks off her shoes, stretching her toes.
I pull down a book, pages worn,
She curls up close, safe and warm.
Eyes grow heavy as the firelight plays,
Drifting off slow as the night-time sways.

Take the long way, slow and free,
Through the woods, by the sea.
Hand in hand, step by step,
These are the days we won’t forget.

- You’re asleep already, aren’t you?
Mmmh… still walking…
- Goodnight, little star

Early morning, the sound of drizzle against leaves. Footsteps crunch along a damp trail. The father yawns as he picks the small one while Steph stretches in the sun.

You sure about this, Steph? Snowdonia's not gentle, even in the sun.
I need this. I need to just… switch off for a bit.
Then let’s get climbing. No rush, just step by step.

Boots press firm on the sodden ground,
Sky hangs low, mist all around.
She tugs her coat, breath comes fast,
But I see her shoulders start to relax.
Baby girl hums, tucked in tight,
Rain on her cheeks, eyes wide with light.

Fog rolls thick like a whispered tale,
Heather bends, bracken pale.
Steph’s eyes dart, mind still wired,
Like she’s running a race she never desired.
What if I fall behind? What if I stop?
Then we rest, we breathe, let the world unlock.
Tiny coos, small hands wave,
Like she knows the lesson—just be, just stay.

Snowdonia sings in the mist and the rain,
Footsteps slow, washing away the strain.
No rush, no race, just steady and true,
The path will wait—it’s waiting for you.

Step by step, sky starts shifting,
Breath grows calm, weight feels lifting.
Steph tilts back, wind on her face,
First real smile since we left that place.
I get it now—been chasing the clock,
Forgetting that time don’t run, it walks.
The clouds break wide, view spreads deep,
Peaks cut the sky, valleys steep.

God… it’s beautiful. I’ve been missing this, haven’t I?
Yeah. And time won’t wait. But we can slow down.
Ah-da-da…
Yeah, see? She gets it.

Snowdonia sings in the mist and the rain,
Footsteps slow, washing away the strain.
No rush, no race, just steady and true,
The path will wait—it’s waiting for you.

Summit wind hums, vast and wide,
Daughter claps, eyes open wide.
Steph exhales, weight undone,
Like she’s finally stepped out of the run.
She turns slow, voice runs deep,
How’ve you been, really?
With Nikki’s peace?
I pause, watching clouds drift free,
Some days soft, some days heavy on me.

She’d love this, wouldn’t she? The view, the stillness.
Yeah… She’d say the sky is just a bigger sea.
That sounds like her.

Tents glow warm, logs burn bright,
Steph leans back, bathed in light.
She reads aloud, voice like a stream,
Tales of giants, old Welsh dreams.
Baby girl hums, curls up tight,
Drifting slow in the gold firelight.

Snowdonia sings in the stars and the rain,
Soft steps fade, but love remains.
No rush, no race, just steady and true,
The path will wait—it’s waiting for you.

She’s out.
Guess today finally caught up with her.
Yeah… caught up with all of us.
Thanks for this. I needed it.
Anytime, Steph. The mountains don’t rush. Neither should we.

A lively morning at the train station. A seagull calls in the distance.

Alright, cariad, tickets ready? Got your bag?
Yep! Tad, do you think we’ll see dolphins?
Maybe if we’re lucky. But first, we’ve got a train to catch.
Tenby, here we come!

Steel tracks hum, platform shakes,
Clock hands spin, the journey waits.
Train doors hiss, step inside,
Windows wide, countryside slides.
Seats by the glass, snacks in tow,
Pembrokeshire calling, let’s get that glow.
Waves in the distance, sky so blue,
his is the start, the world feels new.

Click-clack rhythm, rolling fast,
Bridges, rivers, fields rush past.She points,
Look! Cows on a hill!
Laughing hard, no moment still.
Afon winding, hills stretch wide
That’s Preseli," I say with pride.
Legends sleep in stones that rise,
She just nods with big, bright eyes.

Train to somewhere, let’s just ride,
Let the rails take us side by side.
No rush, no map, just open skies,
Moving forward, love never dies.

Tunnel swallows, world goes black,
She holds my hand, then light snaps back.
What if this train could fly so high?"
Cariad, it already does—watch the sky!
She draws dolphins on the pane,
Dreams poured out like falling rain.
We pass a castle, Conwy’s best,
Bet a dragon’s still at rest!

Tad, do you think they ever found Excalibur?
Maybe it’s still waiting. Just like the sea waits for us.
Then we better get there fast!

Train to somewhere, let’s just ride,
Let the rails take us side by side.
No rush, no map, just open skies,
Moving forward, love never dies.

Salt in the breeze, seagulls call,
Harbor appears past a stone-built wall.
Fishermen wave, boats bob slow,
She tugs my sleeve,
Tad, let’s go!
We jump the step, feet hit stone,
Market hums, this town’s our own.
Pastel houses, streets so tight,
Ice cream first?
That sounds right!

Time slows down, just for a while,
Seafoam laughter, her shining smile.
Footsteps in sand, the tide rolls in,
Here in this moment, let’s begin.

Shoes kicked off, toes in the sea,
She hums a tune, looks up at me.
Tad, do you think trains ever get sad?
Why’s that, love?
When we leave, just like that.
I pause, watch waves take the shore,
Maybe, but new journeys mean there’s always more.
She nods, leans back, lets out a sigh,
Eyes on the horizon, endless sky.

Train to somewhere, let’s just ride,
Let the rails take us side by side.
No rush, no map, just open skies,
Moving forward, love never dies.

I like trains, Tad. But I like being here more.
Me too, cariad. But the best thing? We get to do both.

Conwy Castle, late afternoon. The father and daughter walk along the battlements, the sea stretching beyond the walls. Sunlight filters through arrow slits. A whisper of wind feels almost like voices.

"You know, cariad, they say if you press the right stone, the castle will open a door to the past."
- "What if we find it today?"
"Well, let's try, shall we?
But be careful—sometimes doors don’t just open… they let things through."

Steps on stone, echoes ride,
Seagulls circling, pulling the tide.
Caer stands tall, walls so wide,
Ghosts in the cracks where the legends hide.
Fingers trace where the mortar fades,
Ancient hands left hidden ways.
"Push the stone," she says, eyes bright,
"What if we fall into the night?"

Footsteps light on the spiral stairs,
Wind hums low like whispered prayers.
Brenin's halls, the throne long cold,
Yet something stirs deep in the old.
"Tad, was it like this back in the day?"
"Maybe, cariad, maybe it stayed."
Hands press stone, weight shifts thin,
Air grows heavy—the world caves in.

Crumbling castles, hidden doors,
Time runs strange on forgotten floors.
Echoes linger, past still calls,
Lost between the stone-cold walls.

Flash of gold, a shimmer runs wide,
Walls breathe deep, the years divide.
She clutches close, eyes so round,
Torches flicker—where is the sound?
Faint steps echo, voices blend,
Are we lost, or did we descend?
A figure waits, robe drawn tight,
Eyes like fire, hands like night.

- "Tad… where are we? The sky looks different."
"Shh, stay close, love. I think we stepped into a story."
Mysterious Figure: "Or perhaps the story has stepped into you…"

Crumbling castles, hidden doors,
Time runs strange on forgotten floors.
Echoes linger, past still calls,
Lost between the stone-cold walls.

The wheel turns, the stars align,
Not all who wander slip through time.
Yet you stand here, out of place,
Your moment borrowed, yet not erased.
She clings to me, eyes askew,
Tad, is this real?
I think we knew.
He pulls a book, pages worn,
Symbols shine like brass reborn.
If the door swung once, it swings again,
But only when the sun meets zenith’s end.

Circle turns, let the sky decide,
Step in shadow, step out wide.
Past and present, thin as glass,
Nothing holds, yet nothing passed.

Light bends, the weight lifts free,
Back through the door, just you and me.
Castle quiet, no steps, no glow,
Just empty halls where cold winds blow.
She looks around, hands still tight,
Did it happen? Or just the light?
I kneel down, brush her sleeve,
Some doors open, some just leave.

Crumbling castles, hidden doors,
Time runs strange on forgotten floors.
Did we wander?
Did we dream?
Or does the past still watch unseen?

- "Tad… do you think someone’s still watching?"
"Maybe, cariad. Maybe some stories never really end."

Morning light spills through the bedroom window.
The father stirs in bed, but little feet are already tapping on the wooden floor.

"Tad, wake up! The sun’s up, the day’s waiting!"
"Five more minutes…"
"No way! We’ve got adventures to have!"

Curtains wide, gold pours in,
Small hands tug, day's begin.
Pillow’s warm, dreams still bright,
She pulls me up, fills the light.
Hair all wild, socks don’t match,
Giggling loud, door unlatch.
Through the hall, down the stairs,
Morning hums in the crisp cool air.

Cereal spills, milk on the floor,
She just laughs, asks for more.
Shoes on wrong, jacket flipped,
Ready to go, never equipped.
Open the door, step outside,
Sunrise paints the valley wide.
She points up, eyes aglow,
"Tad, I think the sun says hello!"

Little sun, big sky,Shining bright as she runs by.
Every step, every smile,
Turns the grey to gold a while.

Through the gate, past the trees,
Waving to strangers, moving with ease.
Stops for a moment, feeds the crows,
Dances where the wildflowers grow.
We hit the shop, bell rings clear,She grins,
"Hiya! Same as here?"
Hands the baker her last old coin,"
For your kindness, not just a join!"

"Cariad, why do you always give before you take?"
"Because light doesn’t ask, Tad, it just shines!"

Little sun, big sky,
Shining bright as she runs by.
Every step, every smile,
Turns the grey to gold a while.

Up the hill, over the stile,
Wind plays songs in the golden miles.
She spins around, arms stretched wide,
Laughing wild like the shifting tide.
She picks a bloom, holds it high,"
Look, Tad, I caught the sky!"
I kneel low, kiss her brow,"
You don’t catch light, love, you let it allow."

Footsteps fade but warmth remains,
Like sunlit echoes after rain.
Golden hair, golden days,
The kind of light that never fades.

Homeward bound, lanterns low,
Crickets hum as the cool winds blow.
She slows her steps, rubs her eyes,
Yawns so big under twilight skies.
"Tad," she whispers, voice like sleep,"
Does the sun go where I can’t see?"
I lift her up, soft and tight,"
No, cariad, it’s just lending us night."

Little sun, big sky,
Drifting now, the stars reply.
Every light, near or far,
Shines forever where we are.

"Will it shine again tomorrow?"
"Always, love. Just like you."

The father walks through town on a quiet afternoon. The wind carries a faint hum—like a song half-remembered.

"Strange, isn’t it? How places don’t change… but everything feels different."

Wind hums low, streets still the same,
Shadows stretch, whispering names.
Footsteps light, heart walks slow,
Tracing paths from long ago.
Buttercups bend where she used to run,
Tiny hands picking up pieces of sun.
"Look, Tad! The sky’s on the ground!"
Now just silence, but echoes resound.

Down past the school, gates swing wide,
Ghosts of playtime, laughter inside.
Hopscotch faded, chalk long gone,
But I still hear her counting along.
Swing set creaks in the morning breeze,
Like she's pushing invisible knees.
Fingers brush the chain, cold like stone,
Funny how empty can still feel known.

Golden thread, woven tight,
Through the dark, through the light.
Every place, every time,
Her warmth still lingers, love never unwinds.

Shop bell chimes, scent of old pages,
A place she loved, now touched by ages.
Hands trace spines, searching slow,
For something that she used to know.
And there it is—scribbled note,
Tucked in the pages of stories she wrote.
"If you find this, smile today!"I let out a breath, fold it away.

"You always left little bits of light behind, didn’t you?"

Golden thread, woven tight,
Through the dark, through the light.
Every place, every time,
Her warmth still lingers, love never unwinds.

Sky breaks open, silver and gold,
Sunset spills where the clouds unfold.
She always said light loves to play,
Now it’s dancing, just the same way.
Lantern flickers, the night leans near,
But I still feel her standing here.
Arms stretched wide, catching the glow,
Saying, "Tad, it never really goes."

Footsteps fade, but love remains,
Like sunlit echoes after rain.
The sky still holds the colors she gave,
Her light still walks in every wave.

Back at the door, hand on the key,
Golden thread still pulling me.
Step inside, let the light fall,
Shadows stretch, but she’s in them all.
Her book on the shelf, shoes by the chair,
Like she just stepped out, still lingering there.
Not really gone, not really past,
Some stars burn slow, their glow will last.

Golden thread, woven tight,
Through the dark, through the light.
Every place, every time,
Her warmth still lingers, love never unwinds.

"I see you, love. I always will."

Item description"Between autumn and winter, moments fade, yet they remain.
The leaves drift slow, like echoes in the rain.
Footsteps crunch where stories stay,A whisper in the wind that won’t drift away."

The leaves are falling, gold in the air,
The wind hums songs with a whispering prayer.
Long shadows stretch on the frozen land,
Like echoes of memories slipping through hands.
Time moves forward, but some things stay,Like footprints locked in yesterday.

We walk together, small feet on the ground,
Laughing at stories where the seals spin 'round.
She watches the tide, so wild, so free,
Eyes full of wonder, too young to see.
That the waves keep moving, never turn back,
That time is a current on an endless track.

Tiima, my star, hear the wind start singing,
The waves keep telling the tale they’re bringing.
No true ending, no farewell done,
Only moments fading into one.
The night will fall, the tide will rise,
But your light still lingers in my skies.

The night rolls in, fire flickers dim,
The book lies open, her dreams pull in.
Tiny fingers wrapped in mine,
A fleeting moment, frozen in time.
Tomorrow comes, the air turns cold,
The echoes of laughter stories told.

The wind it sways, the stars burn low,
My heart still lingers where rivers flow.
Your voice, a whisper, just out of reach,
Like waves retreating from the beach.

Tiima, my sun, the wind keeps singing,
The night holds voices, silent, clinging.
No real ending, no farewell said,
Only moments turning to dust instead.
Time won’t stop, but neither will you,
In every shadow, I see your view.

Like a thread pulled tight, unraveling slow,
Time bends, memories rush and flow.
Still they stay, though gone they seem,
Like a song without an end, caught in a dream.
The echoes whisper, the past’s not gone,
It plays like a record, the same old song.

Morning’s cold, the bed too still,
No small voice with a laugh to fill.
The sun still rises, unaware,
Yet the stars still shimmer in the air.
The waves still crash, the shore stands tall,
But silence lingers through it all.

Tiima, my star, hear the wind start singing,
The waves keep telling the tale they’re bringing.
No true ending, no farewell done,
Only moments fading into one.
Your light still shines, though far away,
A beacon bright, a golden ray.

The wind remains, but time runs free,
The star still shines, though she’s far from me.
Between autumn and winter, moments fade, yet they stay.
Like a whisper in the wind that won’t drift away.