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Robert Clapham Sep 2010
Two pilgrims tread the trail of life
Hands entwining heads held high
Strength together striving forward
Eagerly stride into light
Future paths extend before them
Myriad choices at their feet
Ahead the ground may lie uneven
Storm clouds rolling over head
Bonds of marriage defend strongly
Pro-tect through all hardship flung
Growing close through life’s unfolding
Protect inward leaning hold
One mind one thought defining purpose
Each support defend uphold
Strength of heart and resolution
Adventuring .........  two lives as one!


Perinion Dwy cerdd mas i bywyd
Dwy llaw yn gafel pennau lan
Gyda'i gilydd yw y Cryfder
Awyddus cerrdd i golau claer ....
Llwybur yn dyfodol estyn
Efallai *** y llwybyr’n creigiog
Tu blaen eu traid mau dewis glan
Cumylau stormydd dros ben pennau
Cryfder priodas bydd y calon
Cadw’n dau mewn pob afrwyddineb
Yn tyfu’n ddau  dros gyda  n’gilydd
Cyd gafael iawn am cymorth  glir
Un meddwl rhwng y ddau su’n priod
Cariad glan cyfnogi llawn
Calon gryf am penderfynnu
Gyda'i gilydd yn bywyd mawr!
Written for a wedding with Wesh translation

©2010 Robert Clapham
CA Guilfoyle Oct 2012
In relation
to stars, planets - the earth
please share here the date of your birth
You needn't put the year,
unless of course you dare
Now if you don't mind
please post your
astrological
sign

Cyd
July 22
Leo
Any willing participants - Please post your birthday and your astrology sign.  Post in the comments box  : )
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
April 10, 2019

Come a day, reason peeks around the corner,
Wisdom spots the whole idea,
nothing hidden around
the edge,
she winks back.

The story is there
was this kid,

he has these uni-
que memories
odd
memes,
or easers of toils,
heartfelt
reward for sweated blood

proverbial guiding
memories
resting easy in the shadows

he sends songs soaring
some when
Dams break, knowns burst
thru bubbles in jeopardy
new f-izzy izy knots
loose the lowest layer of liege
let go
loosen
free. all for allegiance,
reciprocal give and take with no control
given to any lacking self
controlership

idle words redeemed by chance
take up the dance,
least friction
desidare
aitia
gentle
ease of flow, over under, around
, through, if it comes to that,

any which way ye find,
wind way,
Pollen Way,
River way, rolling
rocky mountain way

it was noised abroad, in the hill country.
We all knew.

Reason come with me,
we have heard we must war

some more,
we are feeling
fused with metal minded

souls set to unleash some
monster idea thing-ysdril-
whoops cyd-drethal
con-tributary
mythic
influence,
twist ing side
ways to es
scape the scoffer
from the
Welsh brig… abrupt

scene shift
like a real life movie

encrypted Welsh wonder words

the professors called thunderwords and
allowed only those umlauted
u prounouncers to speak

with proper compre
hensions,
you get that? Ubermenschken?

Controllership. that idea.
think what controllership would be,
if it were yours being weighed.

The Welsh had a word for that.
goruchwylwriaeth.

How was such a word lost?

How can we teach our kids
controllership when our nation
has no national tongue able

to roll wisdom into reasonless reality,
goruchwylwriaeth,

it's magic, if magi means much to you.

---
Ordovician rules. If I had a hammer.

Ord'vicians, hammer warriors,

hammering out justice all over this land,
as the bombs were falling,

for God's sake. Sake itself is assumed to have
meant "cause",
cause being reason, aition or aitia.
Reasonable reasonibility to
just ify now, as real.

So, since we agree,
we know right, when we taste it, or

do we take a chance on better, a bit more
than half the times?

Judge the controlership system.
What determines a good controller?

when can I assume you consider me no evil? Wordwise, id est.
assume (v.)
early 15c., "to arrogate, take upon oneself," from Latin assumere, adsumere "to take up, take to oneself, take besides, obtain in addition," from ad "to, toward, up to" (see ad-) + sumere "to take," from sub "under" (see sub-) + emere "to take," from PIE root em- "to take, distribute."
Meaning "to suppose, to take for granted without proof as the basis of argument" is first recorded 1590s; that of "to take or put on fictitiously" (an appearance, etc.) is from c. 1600. Related: Assumed; assuming. Early past participle was assumpt. In rhetorical usage, assume expresses what the assumer postulates, often as a confessed hypothesis; presume expresses what the presumer really believes. Middle English also had assumpten "to receive up into heaven" (especially of the ****** Mary), from the Latin past participle.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=assume>

(that which causes, which is not prophaseis)
If this is not enjoyable, you are wearing the wrong shoes. I found a Welsh English Dictionary from 1848, which I had forgotten. It was a gift, it came with wonder-filled unspeakable magic words, and a memoruy of the giver.
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2014
A salutation to the masterful pen of Cyd Guilfoyle
in her delving poem.....

THE SOUL
After some time, there are no words spoken
only an awakening in the silence
of a blue light dawn, a moment
where stars linger on
a portal is found
where the soul
lives on
and on.


To the Master......
A pristine coalescence from your talented pen.
Even for unbelievers there is an acknowledgement of the experience of moments of an incandescent splendour where comprehension and time stand still. Where an unprecedented clarity excludes all peripheral clutter and the complete exquisiteness of being shines brightly.
M.
Marshal Gebbie Mar 2021
You, Korts, are linked inexorably to the likes of Wint, (in his ****** odd way), Natto, (in his Hebrew way), Victoria, (in her Liverpudlian way), Joel, (in his essentially cynical way), Terry O’Leary, (in his rhythmic tongue), r, Cyd …..and many others far too numerous to mention….and of course myself…for we are the progeny, the genetic linkage to the fabled and ancient, “Legion of Storytellers”.

In times past our forbearers roamed the globe when very few others chose to or, in fact, could. They found themselves orating nightly at the fireside, surrounded by spellbound, wide eyed listeners intent on hearing every nuance of wondrous tales of elsewhere. Tales of bravery and beauty, tragedy and outrage. Tales which caused the listener to weep, to wonder and to laugh uproariously. Tales which captured the imagination and sent the ordinary soul on his way pondering, expansively, things beyond his ken.

And in the morning, before the fireside ashes turned cold, the Storteller would be on his way to the next village, the next gathering of waiting listeners….for that is the role of the Storyteller in this life and beyond, spinning tales of immaculate colour and endeavor, laying the fabric of dreams and inspiration, painting the fantastical wonder of it all in the minds of the many.

And that, Korts, is what we do, thee and me….The worms which drive us impel the pen to write, impel the mind to create…the elixir of spindrift of that which we must.

Cheers Brother
M.
Planet Earth
Written as a heartfelt response to Wk kortas's delicious work "The Scarecrow in Exile"
Eryri Nov 2018
Toulouse or not Toulouse...
That was not the question:
We had already won.
We could not lose:
Not an attitude borne of arrogance,
But of having already succeeded,
Before a ball was kicked.
This was my peak as a football fan;
We had qualified.
Any further progress would surely bring about delerium.

My own journey to a win in Toulouse
Was a fantasy I'd never dared to dream.
It transcended celebration of sublime football,
It was about chest-bursting pride.
Our small, oft-forgotten nation,
Whose language was the oldest of all the competing nations,
Was centre stage, ready for it's ninety minutes of fame.

It is a rare thing in football;
That fans do not ask much,
That their team want to provide a bigger answer to the question posed,
Rarer still for fans and players to bond in such a way,
So that winning is secondary to pride,
So that the national anthem is always a sweeter sound than a victorious final whistle,
So that the players sing with the fans after a game:
Gorau Chwarae Cyd-Chwarae.

Failure had ritually followed failure.
"It's the hope that kills you":
An adage fully understood and seemingly apt...
Until football was shocked into reality,
By the sudden death of a double hero,
A death that left an ember of hope,
An ember nurtured with reverential patience,
Until it sparked and became Dragon's breath,
Fuelling a campaign that allowed long-harboured hopes to set sail,
Charting a course:
Cymru to Lyon via Bordeaux, Lens, Toulouse and Lille.
With thanks to Gary Speed (1969 - 2011) former Wales player and manager.
Ryan Dement May 2020
They call this a 'lesser work.'

How do you write a poem about a poem?

Why write poems at all
now that Fred Astaire has danced?

I'm in over my head
giddy dizzy diving downward.

Rhythm meter grace and beauty
Ginger Rita Cyd and Judy.

I really do think
that this might be
the prettiest thing
I've ever seen

which means

this can't be much of a poem.

— The End —