Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kelly Savalas Jul 17
In the hollow where the white hazels grow,
Yn nyffryn lle mae’r colomen yn nythu’n isel,
A name was born from the breath of snow,
Enw hir sy’n dawnsio fel awel ddistaw.
It rolls like thunder from mountain to shore,
Yn taranu trwy’r cymoedd, o fôr i fôr.
Not just a word, but a legend spun,
Stori sy’n dechrau dan haul a lloer.
Llanfair speaks with a saint’s soft grace,
Ac mae Tysilio’n gwenu yn y lle distaw,
While whirlpools churn at a rapid pace,
Ger drobwll gwyllt sy’n siglo’r galon graw.
The church and the cave stand side by side,
Eglwys a thir yn rhannu’r un llais,
One for the living, one for the tide,
Un dros y cof, un dros y daith.
Say it once if your lungs are strong,
Ond paid ag ofni os mae'n cymryd hir,
The name’s not short, but the heart is long,
Mae cariad y lle yn para drwy'r dir.
A village of stories, a song without end,
Pentref sy’n canu tan nos yn y glaw,
A tangle of letters, a curve, a bend,
Yn torri’r tafod ond yn llenwi’r awyr law.
They laughed the first time they saw the sign,
Ond clywodd y gwynt ei seinio’n gain,
Too many letters, a puzzle made,
Fel carreg wedi’i gerfio’n wnaed.
But say it once, and the valley hears,
Mae’r enw’n dawnsio dros flynyddoedd hir.
It lives in voices, old and young,
A’r plant yn ei ganu gyda’u tafod llyg.
No need to cut it down to size,
Mae pob sill yn rhan o’r wyrth yn llais.
It tells of saints, and storms, and stone,
Ac enaid y wlad, o’r tir i’r don.
Not just a name, but something more —
Mae’n allwedd i hanes, a’r drws i’r drôr.
The tongue may twist, the lungs may burn,
Ond mae’r galon yn cofio, yn dal i dŵr.
When strangers fumble on foreign tongues,
Maent yn clymu geiriau fel crys wedi’u hangori,
They learn anew what music hums,
Pan glywedant y galon yn curo’n gari.
Old villagers grin with knowing eyes,
Yn cofleidio’r enw fel hen ŵyl y wawr,
For every sound recalls the skies,
Pan adlewyrchir haul dros fryniau mawr.
Beneath each letter lies a soul,
O dan y sill, mae hanes wedi’i ffwrio,
A tapestry of voice made whole,
Gwehyddu geiriau’n fyw, yn ysbrydio.
Speak it once and you belong,
Un gair sy’n uno’r tir a’r môr,
In every heart it’s heard as song,
Yn curo’n un, heb ffin nac gôl.
Final Recitation
"Saint Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of Saint Tysilio of the red cave."

Llanfair­pwll­gwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­­gogo­goch

"The name sings, the name lives once again, the name reigns supreme."
Mae’r enw’n canu, mae’r enw’n byw.unwaith eto, mae’r enw’n goruchwyli.
© 1989–2025 Steven J. Kelly© 1989–2025 Steven J. Kelly
© 1989–2025 Stevie Faith
© 1989–2025 Kelly Savalas

Published by Stevie Faith Publishing

All Rights Reserved.  International Copyright Secured.  No part of this book may be reproduced stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, record-ing, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

Cover photography © 2021 Dave Brogan Photographer.
Cover images © 2021 Manchester Cover Images.

The Foreword and poems are copyright
© Kelly Savalas used with permission.

ISBN:  978-1-0682-9820-2

This is a work of poetry.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Any poetry within this book that may appear similar to existing works is also purely coincidental and unintended, as all poetic content has been created specifically for this publication.

Warning: This book contains explicit language that some readers may find offensive.  Parental guidance is advised.
brandon nagley Nov 2015
i.

O' mine asawa, mine novel put away for millennia,
Brute man hast hidden thee from view, thou hast been burdened by men's crucifying, thy fear's art of lonesomeness; as many hast left thee, As I've known thine tears. I've seen and watched thy fear's, over the year's thine heart was bleeding.

ii.

Though whilst thou was leaking from thine wound's, I was keeping track on high, from the moon, and universal sky, from the nebula they calleth God's eye; I made plan's to cometh near. Thither below where I hadst none purpose, other than thee; I asked ourn maker to pusheth me into the sea of the great Pacific ocean, I hadst come with mine love, and incorporeal potion's.

iii.

Afore thine nativity, I hadst known thee a whilst, though as an angel thy falling to the atmosphere madeth thee forget thy memory; and divine self. Though I remembered thou, as thy soulmate from ages passed: I waited, with the great originator, I hadst beseeched him to seeing thee again; mine beloved, mine consort of other realm related. As Elohim kneweth thou was mine Filipino rose, mine all, and best friend: he granted me back heaven, as I landed into thy hand's.





©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley-Filipino rose dedicated
asawa means wife in Filipino tongue also known as Tagalog tongue...
Afore means before in archaic...
Elohim is another Hebrew name used for god as also is Jehovah and Yahweh..,
Thanks for reading!!!
brandon nagley Jul 2015
Opulent expatriate of mine vision's,
I delayed for thee on a timeclock not known to terrestrial creature's...
I hath seen thy feature's
Whence I was perched upon the lozenge conduit,
Henceforth knowing it was thee,
Mine other half....
Mine anodyne of high godly class.....
Mine spirit without thee is halfed,
Like a split down mine center.....

For thou hath entered me
Through the eye's
And into mine conscience!!!!
For thou feeleth as if thyself hath no worth,
But I remembered thee at ourn spiritual birth
From whence we were covered in blankets!!!
Warmed by eachother's skin...
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
Nigel Morgan Aug 2012
I wake and the light of this fine day edges round the curtain.
The birds have chorused and my left foot lies cold outside the sheets.
Standing in my nightgown I draw the curtains and look out at my garden.

Let me pad downstairs, open the front door and walk brief steps
to the arbour of ferns and shells. From a cane chair
I shall view my private corner with its tiny pool and privet hedge:

whilst there is still a little dew; whilst the cobwebs still glisten;
whilst there is no wind, just a grumble of the surf at Porth Neigwl,
the sound my father makes dozing over his paper.

Miniature, enclosed, protected I will place my thoughts
in this dolls’ house garden, amongst the dank, dark shadows
of its many rooms, its parterred spaces.

You don’t walk in this garden; you take a step . . .
and you are elsewhere. Take three steps and you are quite lost.

I hear the kitchen door bang in the manor house,
Meriel is taking breakfast to my sisters.
I think I shall stay here a moment longer.
Plas yn Rhiw is an ancient manor house in North Wales. It is situated on the Lyn Peninsula and overlooks the vast bay of Hell's Mouth. The Keating sisters restored the house and Honora created its beautiful Arts & Crafts garden. The poet R.S.Thomas and architect Clough William Ellis were friends and frequent visitors.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Welsh translation  -Os byddaf yn marw, gan fy mod i'n blasu gwaed, cofiwch penillion fy, sut yr wyf yn eu dysgu iti garu, felly lledaenu'r *** cariad, fel y llefaru duw geisio, maddau gilydd, mewn amser o wan, yn mynegi dy gariad, yn ei rhoddi dy enaid, gwna dy gwragedd a gŵr, breninesau a brenhinoedd fel aur !!

ac ag ar gyfer frenhines fy, byth fy fyddi!!!


English translated-


if I die, since I'm tasting blood, remember mine verses, how I taught thee love, so spread that love, as god doth seek, forgive one another , in time of weak, showeth thine love, giveth thine soul, make thy wives and husband's, queens and kings as gold!!

and as for mine queen, forever mine thou shalt be..
brandon nagley Nov 2015
i.

Coming out of the state of anabiosis, mine form was ripped and torn, mine adorn was battered and burned, I went through Hades whilst the pit of death's kiss shattered me in agowilt;

ii.

I was dying, in Hell's kilt; once a shape, now ***** in a pit of unsatisfactory demon's; roped, doped, bleeding.

iii.

The scaled creature's bit me, the ceiling's muck dripped me, whilst at mine ending breath's, a light shined forthward, a Filipino empress.

iv.

I was nothingness: a mess, molested, infected, by the realm of raven's nest's. That's when she thundered in, in Baro’t saya wonder; twas me who on the sea, on her lip's i swirled up-with Satan down under, mine tears hadst fluttered by like butterfly's; mine ghost awoke with Jane;

v.

Twas, she was
Heaven on
Mine side;
She took me
For a ride,
Back to
Life
Again!!!



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
agowilt- is sudden fear.. Fear!!! An archaic word now gone. .
anabiosis is- life after death. Or coming back to life from death.
Forthward- means forward in archaic form...
Baro’t saya means- the main dress for Filipino women. Or traditional...
I have a horse - a ryghte good horse -
Ne doe Y envye those
Who scoure ye playne yn headye course
Tyll soddayne on theyre nose
They lyghte wyth unexpected force
Yt ys - a horse of clothes.

I have a saddel - "Say'st thou soe?
Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?"
I sayde not that - I answere "Noe" -
Yt lacketh such, I woote:
Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!
Parte of ye fleecye brute.

I have a bytte - a ryghte good bytte -
As shall bee seene yn tyme.
Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;
Yts use ys more sublyme.
Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt?
Yt ys - thys bytte of rhyme.
brandon nagley Jan 2016
i.

Seraphim, betimes we shalt crack this inter-web bourn, awaiteth I, tis with tear's from these eye's, though the waiting wilt purify, ourn ventricles to an unfamiliar door.

ii.

None reason for Affright, mine soul doth leadeth the way, O' amour' Jane, thine hari's here to stay. Afresh to the new day, ourn canorous spirit's pave the serenade; something lost to olden flutes.

iii.

Barefeet- None sandals, the luggage we carrieth wilt be of God, almighty; supernatural. Powerful crystalline stone- lucid, god-hand castles.

iv.

It's not against flesh and blood love, that we do wrestle, but against spiritual wickedness in high and low places, we conquer demonic armies, and nephilim faces. An ambassage we sendeth to the human races, that they mayest love another, and forgive, and to forget their past disgraces. As tis Queen Jane; alms wilt be seen on the wall's, encased with ourn names. As I wilt catcheth thee, when through the cloud's thou doth fall...



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Betimes- means in good time.   archaic form.
Inter-web, having to do with technology, computer world..internet...
Bourn - archaic word for boundary.
Tis- means - it is. Archaic form...
Affright means - to frighten...
Hari means - ( king) in Filipino tongue...
Afresh means- again, or also anew. I mean again.
canorous means- melodious or resonant.
God-hand is a word I made up just now lol. Means made by gods hands .
Lucid- means bright or luminous.
nephilim- are the offspring talked about in genesis. The offspring that came from fallen angels ( demons) or known as the watchers coming down and sleeping with human women. Thus making nephilim.. Or giant beings... Which fun fact. The Smithsonian museum is now coming out to tell us they have over 1,000 plus skeletons "kind of human like" 18 feet tall. No joke look up and giant bones and bodies are all over the world... You think the old stories of giants were a myth from legends of Greece. Where mine ancestors are from. And around the whole world? I don't think so. Very much real friend . .and the government hides this from mainstream news. Media. Science so on. Lol the USA used to have articles on giants alot back in early nineteen hundreds though then they stopped putting huge giant bodies they found in paper.   Wanted to keep silent on it. Nope coming out as has more lately..  Sorry fun fact lol (:::
ambassage is - a message...
Alms- means Giving to the poor to help them, of charity.
brandon nagley May 2015
Hands are bound,
Eyes are gagged!!!
                                 No love to giveth,
                                 None to be had!!!
Eyes are choked,
Face is smitten,
                                 Heaven I await,
        
                                 A new thanksgiving!!!
Alex Karmen Apr 2014
rwyf wrth fy modd i chi.
rwy'n credo mewn chi.
aros yn gryf.
gadw i fynd.
peidiwch a^ rhol'r gorau iddi.
i chi.
yn caeleu.
*hardd.
English translation to come very soon ((:
Non Jarvis Sep 2014
Heno, ‘dw i’n syllu,
Heno, ti’n gwingo,
Heno, ‘dw i’n gwintyllu
Yr awel sy’n ddi-flino.

Heno, ti adra,
A’r hiraeth wedi cilio.
Heno, ‘dw i adra,
A’r atgof yn fy mlingo.

Heno, does na’m newid
i be’ ti’n deimlo,
i be ‘dw i’n gofio.
Heno, nid oes addewid,
Heno, nid oes ni.
This poem is in Welsh, my mother tounge. The translation below is literal, and therefore does not rhyme as it does in Welsh;

Heno - Tonight

Tonight, I'm staring,
Tonight, you're writhe.
Tonight, I'm dissecting,
The breeze that's non stop.

Tonight, you're home,
And the longing has dissapeared.
Tonight, I'm home,
And the memory is skinning me.

Tonight, there's no change
to what you're feeling
to what I remember.
Tonight, there's no promise,
Tonight, there's no us.
brandon nagley Apr 2016
i.

As she's in the land of Nod,
rustling azaleas in her
ancestral awe. She don's
the ensemble for the next
morrow.

ii.

Her body like a cradle
Rocks back and forth
As a swaddling babe;
She's musing of ourn
Meeting, and it's
Patient way's.

iii.

Tis I as well who see-
saw's in mine bed,
Pretending she is
Next to me, swaying
the thread's, peeping
out mine window,
Awaiting her wake;
Counting down the
Hour's, to seeith
Mine Angel's
Face.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou dedication)
Land of nod- state of sleep.
Don or Don's- means put on (an item of clothing)....
Morrow- following day.
Ensemble- set of clothes chosen to harmonize when worn together.
Swaddling- wrap (someone, especially a baby) in garments or cloth.
Musing- thinking.
Tis- it is...

Note- will have this on SoundCloud in few hours if you care to listen to it lol thanks friends and supporters for everything ...
brandon nagley Aug 2015
Ourn silhouette's to tail us
Afoot aboriginal Knoll's;

Her brilliance, imminent
Untold story of love;

Appertaining in her contemplate
Mediterranean, upon ourn plate's;

Barefoot meandering to ourn date
Relaxed and high, none debate's;

She's the apothecary who Selleth me philter's
She allureth me in, and mine soul stretcheth longer;

When I falleth down, her young age maketh me stronger
When I cometh around, her word's art charmer's;

Comely is her impetus
Cometh hither mine lad, she's the amour' seamstress;

Companied, I shalt hold mine lass
Companied, I shalt liveth with her, in ourn nest...




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/ soulmate mienne
brandon nagley Dec 2015
i.

She hath abated mine sorrow's, split mine manacles
Wherein afore day's, I was shackled and trampled;
I was left for expiry, mine soul felt retiring,
Ague gaveth me chill's, I got lost in opiatic pill's,
Death twas I, that I was admiring.

ii.

The world gaveth me none thrill- tis I wasn't meant for this life,
I besought at all costs, to find what was right.
Sent to me then, after all mine thirst and hunger for mine
One and true queen, camest Earl Jane, betwixt the dark shade,
Of Satan and his being's.

iii.

When she stepped in, Alleluia hit mine lung's, I found that one I sought, from so many year's ago, twas not love at first sight, I loved her from lifetime's humans do not knoweth; created in God's light. I loved her all along, ourn marriage was, hast been, and always wilt be abiding, timeless, in Cordelia strand's of song.

iv.

And tis when I do wrong, she sets me on better path's, she straightens me, she relates to me, she's mine kindred soul once again I found at last; she's the consort to mine well-being, she's beautiful, elegant, perfection is her key. Perfect to me, she aligns with the star's. Tis she, yea she, hath broken me from mine own prison bar's.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Abate means - make less or lessen ones pain or sorrow. Or to lesson the intensity of something.
Manacles are-
1.
a metal band, chain, or shackle for fastening someone's hands or ankles.
Wherein means - in which
Afore- means past or before or prior
Expiry meaning same pretty much as expiration.
Ague is - fever or chill.
Opiatic has to do with opiates.
Twas means - it was.
Besought is past word for beseeched. Or sought or seek.or seeked.
Betwixt means between in archaic tongue.
Cordelia in poem means- : English name which may be an elaborated form of the Latin word cor, meaning "heart. Also it's the name for certain moon's around a planet! I mean it as heart.
Kindred soul is -kindred spirit. Also, kindred soul. An individual with the same beliefs, attitudes or feelings as oneself.
Consort means -
1.
a wife, husband, or companion, in particular the spouse of a reigning monarch.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Assiduous aster couple
Defendant's of moral code,
Picking plenty of garden truffel's
Elation of electrology gonidium grove

Flex branches
Flexed to granial proportion,
Mad hatter like parkway's
No psychedelic distortion

All is real here
Tis the Jasmine's are kept in Jardiniere's
Kaddish shalt be spoken in different language
Blessed holy every seven years

No keno like chances
All is predetermined fate,
Candles on ourn table
Lap-robes to fit ourn date

A dame to all remission
Whilst Damiana to lax ourn sense
Chocolate bag's of smothered kisses
Ourn bodies to eachother to taste as mints

We shalt leave the world on doorstep
Coronet's upon ourn domes
Coroniform shapely spirit's
Corposants of ourn own ghost

Correlation of childer childe
Chimeres to glaze ourn agile
Fragile as pottery
Ourn story is painted upon!!!!
brandon nagley Aug 2015
A lithe monarch
In the willowy meadow;
Ourn phalanxes sutured
As seducer's of plush marshmallow pillow's.

Avow I shalt, one's high name
I'll be burned for her safety;
Taking her grazing
Drying her in the rain.

Anon her hand, to be on mine wrist
Apostle's of kinship, succulent wish;
None Asp's to swallow in, forgiveness of sin
Assenting in espousal, one letting me in.

To beget her, to giveth her a simper
beggarly I am, as beseeching get's bigger;
Since I'm losing all hope, placeth me on the bier
Moveth mine carrion, into the flame of tear's..



©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Just good writing for noone
brandon nagley May 2015
When I think about it,
Tis I think,
                                      Everyone wants their kiss to be as a sedative, as a narcotic, a high of ethreal sensation!!!

Though tis I do think,
                                    
I do not seek one's kiss to be morphianic!!!!!
                                      I seeketh a pallet from whence mine own tongue will not withdrawal!!!

But be in eternal stupified comatose!!!!!!

                                                                           Never coming down from thy stratus..
brandon nagley May 2015
Accretion,
                     Tis I seek!
Permission,
                     Of ones love to keep!
Partition,
                     I gaze for none!
Secretion,
                     Of child play fun!
Direction,
                     To giveth me her hand!
Completion,
                      A wedded band!
Ommision,
                       I want none more!
Suspition,
                       Please close thy store!
Assumption's,
                       I enquireth zilch!
Corruption,
                       Sleeps with filth!
Attention,
                       Wrap me as waddling infant!
Kitchen's,
                       To cook a meal of terrace's far and distant!
Affectation,
                       Of two fallen cherub's!
Alleviation,
                       Of the bug's and scarab's!
Abstraction,
                       I paint as a picture,
Benedictions,
                       Of one pellet, two triggers!
Complications,
                       Of breathing do I feel,
Irrigations,
                       Another deathly pill!
Saturation,
                       Man made queens to beasts!
Irritation,
                       Where art thou? Queen of settled feast?
Obliteration,
                       I lurk the high hilled tops!
Incarceration,
                        Where ghoul's meet thy cops!
Palliation,
                        To make sensual love in darker nights,
Excruciation,
                        Where art thou light?
*******,
                        Of kings and consort souls,
Acceptation,
                        Wilt thou come mine love?
The Good Pussy Nov 2016
.

                                  
                   nasty nasty
                 nasty nasty nas
               nasty  nasty  nasty
              nasty nastynasty na
                 nastynastynasty
                 nasty nastynasty
                 nastynasty nasty
                 nasty nastynasty
                 nastynasty nasty
                 nasty nastynasty
                 nastynasty nasty
                 nasty nastynasty
                 nastynasty nasty
      nastynasty          nastynasty
    nastynastynas    tynastynasty
      nast  nastyn       astynast  yn
       astynastyn          astynasty
brandon nagley Jul 2015
i

I shalt manifest back to mine past life self
A ghost of crystalline see through, an afterlife pelt;
I shalt meet with cherub's, whence I've conversated
I shalt telleth them of the trial's I've seen, and witness patience.

ii

I shalt be free from this carrion, only made to last a few
Striking mine light in the darkness, like lightning in the new;
Flashing mine appendage's, that hath been bandaged and bruised
I'll pilot the airway's, a captain of mine own flight crew.

iii

None more fearing, I shalt seeith all views in 3d dimension
Ear's to haveth sound explosion, dye to rainbow guides, indented,
Ready to leaveth, in quickly running manner, eye's wide, lathered
None more to be shattered, just plumes to flap the lit matter.

iv

None more sorrow's to leak down onto mine cotton cold pillow
None more tomorrow's, tommorrow doesn't exist in God's land;
None more clock's, or flowing glasses with times deathly sand
None more need's, nor wants, nor demand's, being a happy lad.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
brandon nagley Jul 2015
Love
Not known to man
Only to angel's...
And trust me
Angels do cryeth alot......



©Brandon  nagley - Lonesome poet's poetry....
box hedged, so neat you can lean.

most days the doors are open,
on monday the doors are open.

wardrobe, cupboards, willingly,
if not just ask. see all the things
with love, to work with . linen fabric
hand sewn, pleated, contrast panels,
hung with tissue. brown paper
tied with notes. remember
their polished shoes, the smell of
home, your childhood.

books are tied in black, quilts
stitched with feathers, while friends
drift into mind, move, softly leave.

concentrate on another way.

watch the birds.

sbm.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Apparition's of the darkest of days,
Swept feet,rythmless beats, bang on dark caves!!!

Abject, abject , come out of thy tombs, the warmongers draweth near in silk satin platoons!!!!

Cold hit's the wall, rain hits thine door, the floodgates flap open, no rubies on shore!!!

We art all one!! Grains of sand enlightened to Egyptian sun. We art all free, but slaves to what is..

Gather thine good's, for the abysmal's now understood!!!

For their laughing is now mixed with tears, for its thy blood now that sheds humanities darkest of fears!!!

Thy hearts burden is heavy!!!

Thine eyes dragged and soaked,

Thou canst run from thine self thou Master of dark cloak!!!!!!!!

Tip-top silently, our Whisper's go through a box,
Lock me up, tie me down,

For this heart beats slowly to STOP!!!!!!!!
Old poem
PK Wakefield Sep 2013
sa
yn
ota
wor
dor
)don


           'ts

a




                       ya




                 words
                     m
                   o
                    u
                   t
                    h(h
                        o
                           W)about
                          how
                            in
                        winter

                           slep
th
ard
ly a
letter
ofy
ourbody.but

(with a verb i
                    you
                    the aching
                    and all the birds
                    of a forest
                    
                    leapt

                       from





                          SLUMBEr



                          and rose






                          upon







                            the crimp

                            of darling youth





                             a flower,



                                 ,


                                          .



                               ,



                   ,



                                          .
Iwan Glyn Oct 2021
Y llew,
Y ddraig ar' blaidd,
Rhwng naws ac saws suriol,
Cadair idris.

Gwen glawiog
Pam clydodd
Diancrwydd, frainc.

Dan lledar e'i felt,
Noson dianc.
Rhag dy fodiau,
BYDLONDEB.

Gwen a fina
wrth tamad
Bur,
O' dy adloniant bywiog.

Nol at y blaidd,
Y llew,  
A'r ddraig,

A finau,
Yn hedfan,
Ar adenydd,
Llonydd.

— The End —