A simple white flower
Blooming on a citrus tree.
It’s opulent scent, filling my lungs
In the early dew of daybreak,
Scattering my brain, feeling the lull of
Hiraeth, a sickness for home.

In the gentle whispering wind,
The saccharine perfume whirls around
Lifting my spirit towards the Gemini moon.
It whispers “Hiraeth,”
As my lungs teem with
It’s overwhelming scent,
And my soul brims with peace,
Thinking of a long forgotten home.