Nos Calan Gaeaf, the night before winter
we sit cwtched over bowls of cawl
hot steaming broth
by tradition lamb with vegetables
whatever comes to hand
leeks, carrots, tatws, swedgon
cabbage or kale, shredded
deep green leaves though
not the pale stuff
that disolves in the stewing
before it gets to the bowl
a dash of herbs perhaps
and a touch of pepper
the cwtching and the steam
make this as much an experience
of inhalation as of taste

And when the last drop is gone
the liquid focus turns to cwrw
that's ale if you're Sais
and the singing begins
not all hymns and arias
anything counts, all is game
so long as voices are raised

Amid the singing, thoughts turn
to those who sat in years past
drinking cawl and cwrw
and raising their voices
but sit and eat and drink
and sing no more
though in the flickerng light
of candle and lamp and fire
seem once more present on this night

Cynthia Pauline Jones, October 30th 2014