A poem for St David’s Day
Posted: March 1, 2016 Filed under: Poem, Uncategorized | Tags: birds, blue sky., Carningli, Newport, Pembrokeshire, Remembrance, spring, St Davids Day, Wales 6 Comments
My angels were singing : a poem for St David’s Day
This poem was written a few years a go now – and I have shared it previously. I wondered about ‘recycling it ‘ but (rightly or wrongly) I love this poem, and, given that St David’s Day is an annual event, well….here’s to him, to Wales and the Welsh, and ultimately ; to us all!
Ddiwrnod da ac yn flwyddyn wych I ddod.
I stood near the house
where Grace once lived,
My angels were singing.
I watched as birds
and daffodils dived.
My angels were singing.
It’s spring and the sun
bursts fat and alive.
And my angels were singing.
Old crow, silhouetted against Carningli rock,
purple shadowed on blackened burnt bracken,
gorse and heather reeling :
the after shock.
But my angels were singing, still.
As seagulls wheeled across the bay,
catching sea breezes,
tumbling at will.
The Irish Sea lies beneath
becalmed and silvered blue,
and my angels were singing.
Wales’ favourite saint remembered
the new season breaks forth, springing,
flowers dancing, church bells – ringing.
His angels – singing.
Seasons, people, live and die,
here and now is for the living.
But remember those you love or loved –
do try.
And let your angels be singing.
Let your angels be singing.
Words from a bridge in Bampton
Posted: April 1, 2014 Filed under: Poem | Tags: birdsong, bridges, Devon, spring 2 CommentsI’m in England
The spring sunshine liberated for an extra hour,
Bird song fat and full as the
Bud bursting magnolia and cherry
And I am as wistful as autumn
For
Whilst spring and it’s promise
Flows as sweetly as a Devonish stream
And blossoms in my heart
I am here
And you are there
And that’s ever too far apart
SPRING DRIVEN THING (written last weekend, before it got a bit nippy again!
Posted: March 15, 2013 Filed under: Photo, Poem | Tags: dogs, Poem, spring, woods 2 CommentsSpring driven thing
It’s a spring like day
And we are walking
Three dogs, you and I
In Pengelly woods
Marvelling at the cathedral of trees
Stepping through the quickening stems of wild garlic and of Bluebells, pushing up promises
There’s a rough bench to rest on
And the chance to sit
Watching the stream slip by
Calling out its spring time song
Water music for the ear
Greened bark and worsened stone
Go gently on the eye
We talk, you’re writing once more
A matter of delight
Whilst spring adopts its rites alike
We recommence our Sunday hike
Kicking up a storm of last year’s leaf fall
Marshmallowed moulded woodland floor
Winter slowly shrinking back
As the new season slides through the quietly opening door.