The poet

Complex verse, trickles up,
another from Ceridwen,
A flicker ‘midnight oil
as darkening walls,
an oak, spreading
each sinew strained; breaking point
Then caged, each word
, packed away
Like Ernö’s cube
To be decoded
By those that know…


Should shout, should sing
Should dance on the tip of your
tongue, a play on the lips
A gentle kiss, applause
As the lovers twist, a wistful
smile, as Autumn falls from grace
to an icy clasp, Winter’s,
the embrace of brittle twigs

From your chrysalis
Spring, to stumble through the air
A drunk with wings
Finding their feet , briefly
A year of passion
Took less than a minute
Not to be analysed, but breathed
A life in words

what happened to Summer?
A jig!
and dance again.

If you’d like to find out a bit more about this poem, click the link to the page “Explained” which shines a light on the background to each poem, or helps you to understand what the heck’s going on if you’re a bit baffled!

By cyncoed

Old & Welsh

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