Thoughts of home or thoughts of friends,
the air has a different scent,
a lovely flower forgotten near,
makes my heart sick with colours & joy.
I suffer and cry,
Yet again cannot see the flower,
The home is far and so the flower,
Though the heart so yearns to feel the touch
Come again Oh,
winds from south,
to carry a cry of breaking heart.
Waiting for that joyus day,
to catch the wind I know so well,
and i will sail in the ship of time,
to reach that land where my hopes so dwell.