Those Valleys, A Decade Gone

Even that red dragon pawing the flag,
seemed gentle in springs,  a decade gone.

I seldom recall the blue Welsh rain
only the August gardens that steamed
with barbeques and laughter
staggering between bars,

a gruelling lesson,
Martha attempting to teach me
Iechyd da! my throat already hoarse
from giggling. I think of drinking

in youthful Welsh valleys,
a thousand toasts rised to nothing
in particular and rugby.

I recall how my friend paused
to knock on the splintered door

of some white-haired old woman
whose mind had begun to unravel,
years fading from her brain on a May evening.
But my friend was there to nurse her,

My friend

-a puppet-master -

cared for the children,

made them laugh, clutching, desperate 

for strings that might stem

communal decay.  

Reviews

[Siddhartha]

Oh! Those days are long since gone but fragments of which remain - pieces that like splinter enter our psyche that shape us, deconstruct us and yet evolve us. And on a day when the Sun shines yellow and the blue skies yonder seem bluer, the past unravels and a sensitive person pens it all down.

[Steve]

Is this true to life in any way in your life? This write sounds real and genuine somehow.

[Ed Hart]

when your heart beats poetry, whatever you say turns the moments into jewels

[Donald Meikle]

Thanks Sel and yaki Da

[Steve]

You are indeed at a different level ...arent you? :0)

Its impressive.

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

The beautiful green valleys, the hills of Bridgend. And the costal beauty of Swansea and Tenby. Not forgetting the city of my birth and Cardiff. You have brought back the wonderful memory of Wales my friend.