Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more.
Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I
And the tree and stone were one.
The Piano Blog
I'm trying to play the Piano for a while most days. Just improvising whatever comes into my head.
Just to capture a moment.
All these pieces are unedited, one take and so mistakes are included !
All Photographs by Ruth Field
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