Tuesday 5 March 2013

My try in the style of DT

This is an attempt to do something in the style of a certain welsh drunkard,  inspired by the area around the National Botanic Garden of Wales on a cold spring morn.

I claim copyright on this item,  and will object to its use anywhere without my permission

Working title "Cold Spring in Llanarthne"
Cold cracked leafless lanes sneak past hard forlorn fields
Where sheep show eyes all dark and filled with rheum
Wet whisps of cloud frame starling speckled skies
And Old men scream with winter in their bones,

But soon the sun makes promises anew
Of life and healing soon to come again
Redstarts cry to send the cold away
And old men smile, and think of springtimes gone

The seasons swing around, this is life's rule
And past must yield, as now must yield to then.
The moving finger warns of yet to be
And old men move to graveyards painless sleep.