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Called West

North East called west,

But first South then back again,

Dumbarton, just West-a-Glasgow,

Once called home and once again,

Nostalgia draped in all her finery.

Cold. Wet. Grey.

Time impressed upon us both.

Now you are west, further west,

27 years unwilling unknown,

Home from home, in streets “not to be walked alone”,

And me? a new man.

A man,

With adolescent echoes still heard,

Boiling to surface all too often,

But still,

A man.

Changed, transformed, unveiled. Reborn,

As sins are slowly stilled,

And ego bruised.

Nothing hidden, replaced, eclipsed,

But, stretched, refashioned, taken and used.


Found with fading fear,

Joined in journey,

We traced the steps that led us here,

Two learning to live as one.

Laced together by a third,

With raised voice and bended knee declaring:

That in all things He might be first,

The one we followed west

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