Swerving, circling, swiftly passing,
peeling off, synchronised flying;
feeling their freedom, it so thrills
my soul, sharply they turn and
soar to great heights, where
spaces are clear, free and kind.
Swooping, skating over the grasses
gracing the top of Graig Fan Las
and Bwlch Y Ddwyallt. Rising to the
giddying heights of Cribyn and all
their joyous dance gliding around
giddily; creating magic and delight.
Sliding, slipping out of view they
arch their wings and silently grace
the sky, showing white, dark wings,
then creamy rump flying by and I
look with awe as they show us
a house is a home where the heart
is. Maybe on mountain top or hilly
lows, sown under roofs and pipes
that drain.Stuck fast to walls and
barns that shelter their young until
majestically arching their tiny form
soar up to a hearth in the heavens .