Losing You (Englyn)

 

Fragile is the egg that comes too soon, for

Sure the life-stemming bloom

Will flood that fruitless moon –

Silent now the lullaby’s tune…

feather

So, today I tried to write in a Welsh poetry form called an Englyn, this is very complicated and I cannot stick to all the rules as I think I would have to learn the Welsh language to have a proper go at the cynghanydd elements (basically where repeated patterns of consonants form another pattern and rhythm with each line…) instead mine is very basic but I did enjoy having a go.

Thanks to Libby Leaper for introducing me to this form on her blog: By The Wobbly Dum Dum Tree,  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/191782

 

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Blue

Deep, deep blue is my heart
like the ocean of tears
I have cried
For you
Deep blue

One Year On…

Scooby on a family camping trip to the mainland. He was so excited to have been included that he didn’t mind at all being put on a lead for mealtimes along with his three canine companions.
He was one of the family – taken into the fold and cherished as much as if he were one of the children. Found abandoned on the streets of Newport to fend for himself, once he realised that he was with us to stay he soon made himself at home.
We miss him.
One year today…
DSCF0027

Cherished

Making a book
Filled with
Pictures of angels
And, most poignant of all,
A letter in a childish hand
Filled with
Love and sadness;
Filling me with sadness
As I read of one girl’s
Love for her sibling.
Then I go home and am
Moved to tears by
Their mother’s link
On a Facebook page.
Treasure,
Cherish
Every single moment
Of this life we are given,
They pass in a blink even if
They run their natural course.
How then can we waste a
Single
Precious
Heartbeat?

 

Spirit

MWM
Bittersweet late Christmas present…
…………….
First day of the Spring term and a bag full of presents greets me on the table at the back of the class. I couldn’t come in on the day we broke up – these offerings have sat patiently, biding their time until today. When I get home I sit and unwrap them.
Chocolates by the ton and body cream, vouchers and candles, my lovely class, still the presents come…wine and a beautiful Guardian Angel to sit and watch over me. I leave one until last. The child is away, mourning the loss of her sister and we grieve for her grief. I open her gift, carefully wrapped and thoughtfully chosen. I am ‘someone special’, according to the pen, also enclosed is a plaque to celebrate Christmastime – tears sting the back of my eyes as I read; ”Believe in the spirit of Christmas”…
Bittersweet offerings

Silver Ghost

24.12.13
And so the tree, which has stood its ground
Since Queen Victoria was standing hers,
Which has seen seasons come and go;
Breathing the smoky aroma of things
Long dead in the air all around,
Has finally sighed its last and bowed
Too far to the night-time howl…one final
Groan then sinking to the earth to sleep
The sleep of Nature’s innocent.

The house hadn’t existed when our friend
Was planted these many moonshines ago.
Its collapse surprisingly hindered by
Bricks and mortar; clay, wood and stone. As birds
In its branches, wingless the inhabitants peer through –
Wondering what guardian angel must
Have been watching over them this first hour
Of Christmas Eve. All should have been crushed to dust,
Splintered like that tree which will no more
Look through into the windows of their lives.

Fortune indeed smiled, on some, that night.

Weather

Matchsticks
for houses;
complete devastation –
wrecked lives…homes… livelihoods.
Irreparable

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