Dyma Gartref

Dyma Gartref

A Poem by Beccy

On the hills
above the grey houses,
but below the azure sky
there are ghosts
going about their business.

Some are gossamer,
they dance unconcerned,
others are dark clouds,
brooding, 
closing out the sun.

It matters not
as I chose the fragrance,
the coolness of clean air,
the wind songs, everlasting,
healing,  teaching of the
cycle of death & rebirth.

I can hear the land sleeping,
see the sheep, still as monuments,
a handful, specks of white grazing.
They might have been there forever,
scenting as I do, the fragrance 
that lies all on the place.

The clock ticks, still I cannot leave;
instead, I listen as I am sung to
in different voices;
those of castles and cottages,
battle cries of ancient victories,
the joy of the tilling of the soil;
and so I walk the deep summer day
as careless, like tidemarks,
the hedgerows become laden 
with blackthorn and may.

By and by, a rabbit tilts its head
above a grassy slope; inquisitive,
hearing, as I do, the songs, 
though time has long erased
the written stone;
and sunlight no longer falls
on castle walls and cottages 
that hug the ground, as stone 
without memory - left around.

But the rabbit knows. 

© 2017 Beccy



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Reviews

You are a very talented and masterful at this kind of mesmerizing poetry. I love it.

Posted 1 Week Ago


I'm not sure if you're familiar with Robinson Jeffers but I mention him because this poem reminded me of his work. He was also a fan of weaving nature into his poetry. I'm a huge fan of his and it may be someone whose work I feel you'd enjoy if you aren't already. The integration of nature into your poets voice is flawlessly delivered in each line along side of what I felt were existentialist musings.

Posted 1 Week Ago


Excellent invocation and homage to the ancient spirit of nature and place. We are lucky when we have such feelings I reckon. Well captured in words.

Posted 1 Week Ago


Is there such a thing as beautifully ominous? If so your poem nailed it. Great work.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


I recently did a DNA test just to match up to what I knew about my genealogy. There was absolutely no surprise with the results. 70% English, 15% Scandinavian, 15% German. The funny thing is, is that my ancestors on both sides have been in North America for three hundred to four hundred years in some cases. Even though I am purely European, I don't feel that way at all. Everything that is real to me, is from this land that I have grown up in and love. Let me get to the point, I don't want to backspace and start all over.
Whenever I read anything from you, it's always well written. But what I look forward to the most in your writing is how you are able to transport me to new land. I know it is not always sunny and can be somber at times, but it is always wonderful. CD

BTW Reminded me a little of Watership Down at the end.


Posted 2 Weeks Ago


I am for once lost for words, but these ones of yours have just sent a shiver down my spine. They are truly special Beccy and I am sure there are many of us out here who would be proud to have penned them, I know for sure I would......All Good Things, Neville

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


' I can hear the land sleeping,
see the sheep, still as monuments,
a handful, specks of white grazing.'

Each and every phrase and stanza is bliss and beauty hip to hip., This poem truly is wondrous language, Beccy! It makes smiles and tear happy to be side by side.. dear, dear you. Beautiful.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


Haunting in the best way.

Much enjoyed reading.
Kerri

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


Frost, in his eccentricity, had trouble introducing nature in his early poems, so he used it as a divergent so we could see the true contrast of his beliefs. Was he a modernist? Is the face of the cliff, the rock, the earth or ice put there for the poet or are such claims just civilized refinement?
I mention this because this poem is so unlike everything you have written to date. "Boot Sale', "fragments of the whole" seem an awkward climb in comparison. Which means, to me, that like Frost, beauty is both self sacrificing and attentive. You have to deliberately go out and upturn the rattling noises of it so the citizeness can put it on display. This is wonderful poetry writing.......when the patience that you've implied sends us scrambling. dana

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


Although I am a lover of the natural beauty and tranquility of the countryside, I have never been able to express it in words such as yours Beccy. Perhaps I should have spent much more time in Wales. (Although I did learn Suo Gan for a choral performance ).

Posted 2 Weeks Ago



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Added on November 24, 2017
Last Updated on November 28, 2017

Author

Beccy
Beccy

Northampton, Northamptonshire, United Kingdom



About
I'm forty, single and have a lovely eleven year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I had never really been inclined to share my writing until a sh.. more..

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