A Sense of Place
Mae'r Drenewydd ac Afon Hafren yn arwain at farddoniaeth sy'n canu am y dref yn y gwanwyn
Ysgrifennwyd gan gyfranogwyr y Prosiect Lles mewn Mannau Gwyrdd
The River Severn - NewtownPlymio dwfn, dwfn
Dust, shale, pebbles, rock.
Sheet pavements of well-worn grey.
Ribbons of silver cotton weave and wave.
Fluid glass diamonds roll and rock.
Adolescent trees drip their leafy toes.
A stray white feather boat slips by.
Birdsong, life, a muddle of minnows hidden
Deep under beer froth and scum.
Ear-blind human carrier pulls one bank closer to the next.
Trickle, dapple, bobble, pitch.
The Painted Desert.Plymio dwfn, dwfn
Ambush at Hangman Crick.
Drive ‘em through the canyon.
Injuns on the skyline.
Geronimo behind that rock.
John Wayne behind t’other.
Nothin but varmint in that gulch.
Head em up an move em oooout!
Driest arroyo I ever did see.
So dry bushes follow dogs around.
The River SevernPlymio dwfn, dwfn
Seagull quartering, sky surfing
It's eyes on the chance
The wren singing, trilling
Crow flapping, lazing
Banks of green
Grey, dry shores
Water low and slow
The bridge crosses
The water's steady flow
Where the water eddies
Turn back time
Stronger, fuller, freer
Flooding the streets, the shops, the homes
A splash brings us back to now
Contained, tamed, controlled
The crow sounds the alarm
And the water twinkles, reflecting.
Soliel L’OrielPlymio dwfn, dwfn
Lay on my back in the afternoon sun
Making grass angels in the slow ranunculi and daisy.
The sun tightens my face, highlights
Soft hot smells of me and home.
If this is as good as it gets – take me now.
I own all of this.
The voices of nature intertwined with words spoken,
Dog bells and cries from the back of children’s throats.
Serenaded by Raven caw,
Romanced by hidden foot steps.
I’ve lost the margin of where I end and it begins.
I am one.