The light of some just republic,
waits for us in the trees.
Sought out like a lover,
for we know it may deceive.
These old places need no naming,
no great palaces or signs.
Just a child’s hand to guide us,
to a better state of mind.
scottish writer and journalist
The light of some just republic,
waits for us in the trees.
Sought out like a lover,
for we know it may deceive.
These old places need no naming,
no great palaces or signs.
Just a child’s hand to guide us,
to a better state of mind.