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Poem

Mist evolves down the hillside into the vale
Where the farmhouses sit all put together
There’s no sense of wind here, there’s no bit of gale
Just one leery breeze that blends with the other
 
The houses confine themselves within the shade
And warmth flows there inside the chimneys conveyed
Where some sides of the buildings glisten in light
Sparkles with joy from now until the broad night
 
It is early morning, fires are still aglow
Burned all night with wood stored in the wicker trug
Sparks, spitting out making a huge firework show
A carefully placed guard to save the rag rug.
 
Mam is stirring the porridge, a lovely sight
Papa’s gone to the byre, check cows are alright
Daybreak is here, the children need to awake
Breakfast, then the long trek to school they must take
 
Within the boundaries so warm and cozy
The sights of any day of enlightenment
No matter day or night the valley I see
Complete, whole and surely full of contentment 
 
Around the kitchen table they had sat this night
Mam with her sewing, Papa smiling at the sight
Children asleep tucked up in their gossamer down
In this idyllic place, the valley they call home

A Collaboration between Russell Sivey and Seren Roberts

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