The human voice was made to sing;
and to the dull roar of life, bring
a force that grounds us in all things.
From the soprano, giving wing
to angel’s tones gone traveling,
to basso, low and rumbling:
the song connects us, soul and skin,
to what within us keeps living.
05 MAY 2011
Posted in Poems
Tagged connection, cyrch a chwta, daily poems, life, singing, song, Welsh verse forms
To fill life with song,
sing out all day long
both right notes, and wrong;
do not be shy.
Don’t worry the notes.
Just listen, and quote;
and do keep your throat
from getting dry.
The subject, the text?
The world, more or less;
what small things impress
you, just sing about.
Don’t keep it inside;
set it free to glide
out into the wide
world. Go on, shout!
04 MAY 2011
Posted in Poems
Tagged cyhydedd hir, daily poems, poetic forms, singing, song, trust, voice, Welsh verse forms
Who can say what form the end takes?
The path each of us chooses makes
no two lives the same.
The snuff of one flame?
A wind came –
a mistake;
while yet another’s candle’s spark
may grow immense, and light the dark.
No one can say why
one lives and one dies.
We just try
to leave marks.
02 MAY 2011
Posted in Poems
Tagged chance, clogyrnach, death, life, poetic forms, time, Welsh verse forms
What there is left to say, I have said;
let’s leave off talking, and try instead
another way to listen and be heard
that words don’t understand.
Wait a moment: let some silent thing
bring with it, for a while,
another point of view to our chat;
Surely, we have time enough for that.
23 NOV 2010
Posted in Poems
Tagged byr a thoddaid, conversation, poetic forms, silence, time, Welsh verse forms
Our two small dogs are barking;
how they sing out with concern,
alarmed by the street traffic:
an old sedan’s quick u-turn
down our lonely dead-end street!
I hear their feet scrape the floor
as they scramble to the sound,
some new thing they’ve found to sic.
09 NOV 2010
I wish to communicate.
Alas, fate does not desire
that we should speak today;
instead it blocks our way with fire,
which we perceive as brute force.
It’s not, of course, merely smoke;
but feel – its flames do not burn.
Though we both yearn in dismay
at the chasm between us,
neither trusts the other’s pyre;
and so we forgo friendly chat,
each one thinking that a liar
is not worth time spent to know.
Enmity grows between us;
two who could have been such friends.
The whole world ends just like that.
awdl gywydd
15 AUG 2006
Posted in Poems
Tagged anger, awdl gywydd, communication, distance, time, Welsh verse forms
Simple things make me content:
knowing where my money’s spent,
poems written, letters sent,
feeling good the rent’s been paid,
evenings without things to do,
working ’til the work is through,
reading a good book or two
‘neath a tree’s new morning shade.
Children play along the walk,
neighbors come to sit and talk,
flowers bloom along the block:
roses, phlox and marigolds.
No advantage to be sought,
Only groceries to be bought;
Smiling at the others, caught
where I too once was so bold.
Day turns into night again,
phone calls come from kin and friends;
happiness for me, depends
on how I spend such days.
Simple, yes, but never stale,
these nothings make grand things pale:
seasons changing without fail,
the thin veil of nature’s ways.
Offered more, I would refuse;
Lest by chance, this life I’d lose.
Let it humor or amuse
society – I don’t mind.
I will walk by my own path;
that shall be my epitaph;
Let those who’ll grieve on my behalf
keep laughter and I entwined.
Simple things, like life and mirth.
These are treasures of great worth,
pleasures of our time on earth
that nurse our souls to health.
Money, fame and power, too –
all will fade when life is through;
what remains, and stays as true
defines what you have as wealth.
14 APR 2004
Posted in Poems
Tagged daily poems, domesticity, englyn cyrch, happiness, poetic forms, simplicity, Welsh verse forms
