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Jeff Stier
Poems
Aug 2016
Knock on Wood
Druid is Derwydd
in our tongue
the Welsh of my fathers
Our land is called Cymru
and we have thrived here
since ancient times
We live by our cattle
first
our hearts and families
second
and our crops a poor third
We are taught that
a mist descended on our land
in the before times
and cleansed the earth of life
And that a new people came
our people
and brought with them
cattle
all of the trades
and a gift for song
We were called Celts
but now we are proudly
Welsh
the dragon is our badge
and red war our way of life
The Derwydd
are our guides
they follow the stars
know the mystic tides
teach our young
and ease our old
into the afterworld
Never cross a Druid
they say
or feel your tongue
curl into burnt leather
in your mouth
Please a Druid
and luck will
lay by your side
I am called Caedmon
wise warrior
son of Lhur
born in the shade
of a great oak
I was taught all of the high arts
poetry
music
and war
If ever you travel
through our fortress-locked land
you will be welcome
at my hearth
Come
bring your sweet pipes
and play
bare your sword arm
and raid with us
When we return
cattle rich
then the feast will begin
then the bards will sing
and poetry will open your mind
to the harmonies of heaven.
For my Welsh forbears.
Written by
Jeff Stier
Western Oregon
(Western Oregon)
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