The wild mountain thyme that grows around my door
Has grown there for two score years or more
And I've grown weary waiting for love to say
"Come my way, come my way."
The brook that sings and twinkles in the sun
Has danced this mercy dance since time begun
But o how weary and how long the day will he say
"Come my way."
Lovers all around, I wish you joy
Happiness to every girl and boy.
But sometimes spare a thought of me and say
South China Morning Post | 23 Aug 2019
The Himalayan | 23 Aug 2019
The Independent | 23 Aug 2019
Raw Story | 22 Aug 2019
Irish Independent | 23 Aug 2019
CNN | 23 Aug 2019