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                  Amidst the paraphernalia of natal units –                                        This is my home – but
                  High frequency sound waves,                                                      Oh for the day when
                  Disinfectant, hormone drips,                                                     “Like a roe” I too
                  Masked midwives resplendent in                                                   “Can bound o’er the mountains
                    their ghostly gear –                                                           By the sides of the deep rivers”
                  Amidst every clinical aid –                                                      Yelling to the resounding hills –
                  We were born.                                                                    This is my
                                                                                                   Home.
                  Bristol.
                  Regency city it stands, overlooking the Avon –
                  Smashed by the Hun
                  Sending Dornier death by the tonne.
                  We were born there
                  Ere the moon had risen on the seventh day
                  Away from the Julian din,
                  Remote and peaceful
                  In seventy-nine.
                  More peaceful even than the Meads,
                  Over to the Veddw – sheltering
                  ’Neath the beech and fir –
                  There real solitude to be found.
                  Here I shall stay.












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