Welsh Rill

scissored shades of Betsycoed
taste of yester youth's sweet tones
splashing sound of forest water
kissing shining sacred stones

Dreams of swirling druids dancing
in the faery water's rill
flash reflective thoughts of flight
The dragon tears yet spill

The druid hymn of waiting
for greed to die of want
a constant scream of tortured winds
belie the curse of can't

What matters ought to those who fought
and died that I be here
to stand beneath a blazing sky
and gaze upon the Western sea

moments of reflective thought
pondered on expressed and caught
to feed an ever growing need
To dig and rap and plant a seed
That blossoms in another mind
Repeated as the finest kind
to be forever sowing seed
To seed
And time to spend with thee

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

This could have been written in a writers journal from two centuries ago. The feel of this special place comes through so well. Captured in the mountains history of Snowdonia.

[Donald Meikle]

Some memories fade. Some never.

[Gandré]

with this poem you take us on a journey, and with your words you use the best virtual "animation" of your time, to reach your readers... I can see the stones, the ocean, I can hear the splashing thundering water, the speaker is a man, riding through the lands of his memories, he is layed back, peaceful and he looks up from his rhyme and the reader is just comfortable with every scene. wonderful writing, the serenity of a mature mind. the poem made statement about all what is gone and takes a moment to breathe deeply the crisp seaside air through the power of retaining and recalling past experience. my personal new fav of yours.

[Sel Whiteley]

That is amazing, absolutely stunning so much so it brings tears to my eyes. Such classic, almost 19th century beauty. Somehow, it reminds of Llewelyn and yet of those lost at Gallopi too. And of the last bard picture. These are amongst my favourite things. But to framed with such majestic language, thankyou for sharing this, it is quite, quite wonderful.