#wales poems on Hello Poetry

Richard Ellis - Hawley Feb 2018

Southampton, Liverpool, Bournemouth and Hull
Places in England that give you the pull
going by ****** or National Express
Wherever you want it can cost you less
booking in 3 or more months in advance
lets you see scenery takes only a glance
from down south and London and places above
get into Scotland you'll need to wear glove
Cross the border and hear the sound of the pipes
or get into wales - a choir - ooh cripes
a sound that gives you goosebumps
a sound that makes you cringe
keep going north my friend
and watch the Edinburgh Fringe

#england #ireland #scotland #wales #uk #united #kingdom

Hayley Siebert Dec 2016

Daughter of Noah

God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live

For all the abuses
For all the suffering
For each and every wound
God gave you a gift

This weaponry, this arsenal, this armour
Of talents, arts, voice
is a fire to the demons in your head

Purge the monsters
Purify them with your fire
God is always with you
God did not let you suffer in vain
He did so, so, you may learn
learn to survive, to fight, to win

Survival is in your family
It is in your *blood
Your Mother, Grandfathers
Great Grandparents

You are of the land of the dragon
You are of the land of God
Your blood of warriors Celtic born
Your blood is of Moses and Abraham

Your blood will pass onto your daughter
In your womb, lies the power of creation
The gift of life, to forge a soul

In your womb is the blood of Ariel
In your womb is the blood of Cymru
God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live
To live, to survive, to fight
Is in your *blood

#illness #god #religion #mental #blood #family #jew #jewish #wales #welsh

Sara Went Sailing Sep 2016

Snowdonia

I hiked to the top of the mountain crest
Where I made some time to breathe
Took piney air in fresh green gulps
And it made my soul feel clean

Free from the judgments that men make
Their talking heads and games
Away from their petty opinions and
Bad endings we can’t disclaim

And the noisy chatter was blown away
By the brisk Welsh westerly wind
Where the black slate slopes are cold and wet
And the sweet sheep my best friends

Where the landscape spake by the castle keep
Of the ancient Celts that dwelled
In that same rough place that I kept my pace
There were Druids casting spells

Then I saw my prehistoric self; dreadlocks in my hair
When there were no combs,
I was scant of clothes
But I wore some bones for flair

Upon my feet were skins with peat
Tucked inside to keep them warm
And I upped and ran when I saw my clan
To the hill fort I was born

But it’s just like me to be guilty of dreams
Seeing fantasy images wind
‘gainst the clock I raced to inhale that space
So a day I could feel it was mine

Written by Sara Fielder © June 2014

#wales

Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul Nov 2015

Bring You Home

Give me the land where the daffodils grow
A land where we can all roam free
Where the songs ring down in the valleys
Like a heavenly choir of purity of voice

Show me the sport of true champions
Where men clash just to entertain
And nations battle in all their skill
In the pride in all that they do

Take me back to the city where I was born
Where the river runs through docks to the sea
Where people greeted you from hard toiled work
You were treated equal, and always a friend

Mountains that bask in beauty of snow and ice
Where you can rejoice and be one with nature
And when you ask where to find this wonderful land
Follow with me, I will bring you home to Wales

#wales

Dreams of Sepia Aug 2015

Grief

The lights on the Welsh coastline shine
Her whiskey days are full of ink
& broken milk bottles, a grief so hidden
it’s barely there to be read as her plight
The Army took her boys & never
gave them back but she only ever
cries when she’s chopping onions at night
& reading the obituaries in the newspapers
at night she prays to Angels up on high
but never goes to Church on Sundays
not since the Vicar told her it was
all for the best & they had done their bit
the country should be proud of them
-she finds no comfort in such things

#loss #sonnet #grief #mothers #wales #ww2

Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul Jan 2010

Saint Dwynwen

She loved her special prince
Her soul belonged to Maelon
But her father would not allow it so
For she had been promised to wed another

She prayed to her God to forget her true love
And an Angel came down to visit her
Granting a sweet potion to erase his memory
So that she could forget him forever

But it also meant that Maelon would be trapped
To be encased within a block of ice
Then her God decided to grant Dwynwen three wishes
And she knew for what she had to do

She wished for Maelon to be thawed and saved
She wished for the hopes and the dreams
Be granted for all of the true lovers
But the third wish, she would never marry

She formed her convent on Llandwyn
This is where she stayed, until Death took her
The remains of her church can still be seen
She will always be our patron saint of lovers

5th Century saint ... copyright Chris Smith 2010

#lovers #saint #wales

Francie Lynch Nov 2014

Snapshot of a Pub

Above cushioned wall seats,
Where locals sit with dogs
At their feet,
Hang photos
Of footballers
Smiling still after near-forgotten games;
A farmer stands beside his blue ribbon boar;
Horses tethered to carts,
Near soldiers smiling with
The Republic's grimmace of war.

Outside cobbled streets
Lead to stone bridges
Walls and houses,
Near the shade of umbrella trees.
Turrets stop whispers
Wrapping their heights.

Black, white and fading.

Nine o'clock arrives
And pictures shake
From laughter
And music,
The click of dominoes,
And clink of pints,
In the pub life.

All pubs are equal.

#ireland #scotland #england #wales #pubs

Camellia-Japonica Jun 2014

Wales-Cymru. Land of my father.

Father's Day was yesterday.
But why must a day be set aside to show a parent love?
I love my parents all year round
I've fought, screamed, cried all the while loving them.
But, my country breeds strong independent people
national identity to be found everywhere.
From the hilltop spring to the coast
we Welsh are a mystical breed, of mystery and sorcery.
My anthem "Mae hen wlad fy nhadau"
or Land of my fathers made me stop and think,
think of my father and other men in this land.
Rough handed, hewn from steel and coal.
Iron willed, fiercely proud.
Valley born I am, even now I'm in a city.
But when I die Valley dead I'll lie.
In my father's plot, set aside for us.
Set aside on a green mountain overlooking the valley.
The land of my fathers, the land that bred him and me.
This poem is in English oh "uch a fi"
But if I write in Welsh my father will not understand
His generation denied the language of song, poetry,
and identity. I have a happy heart "calon hapus"
For he and I will be forever tied by blood and country.
Father's Day for me and all children born of woman lay claim to
Father's Day all year round.

#day #pride #wales #fathers