BLOWINGS:

Please blow my old ashes upon distant Brecons,

While my good God deliberates, decides & reckons,

I shall dance my stepping around old Chalice Well,

While God with his Angels, decides on heaven or hell,

I´ll lift my red-dead skirts & then let fly my torn veil,

I shall whirl, twirl & tumble, upon soft breezes & gales,

I´ll not be awaiting God´s verdict, for my old Celtic soul,

Please let my old ashes, upon yon Welsh Brecons blow.