Monday, May 08, 2006

Song for Llywelyn App Owain...for Skinty

Celtic air still holds your name
sealed on the lips of a wind
that whistles down the song of years
You took a bride of spite
through lands that whispered
bitch
but she melted the hearts
of the bastard sons
who took up the reins
and the soul of Gwynedd
No such greatness has shouted since
or called the name
Fawr

8 comments:

skint writer said...

I'm impressed - the Welsh theme has inspired you to create a work of literary greatness - Welsh words and not a trace of sheep

Da iawn, daliwch ati.

Minx said...

Thank you kind sir - we aim to please! Now can I do one about sheep???

skint writer said...

OK, OK - here is a line from a poem of mine to get you started "The sheep flood the green hills like maggots"

Minx said...

Yuk!!

Minx said...

And don't go speaking foreign to me - what does that last bit mean?

skint writer said...

it means "well done - keep it up" but it sounds a bit patronising in English

Minx said...

Agnas yn dertha (Cornish)

Maxine said...

I love the poem. It is very "poetical" in the best sense.

Pity that you could not get in the Hovis, but I can see it would have lowered the tone. (Sorry, Skint!)