Best Wales Poems
Wales to me is her Celtic tribal history,
Wales to me is walks upon her shores.
Wales to me is her druids, saints, and mystery,
the soil I tread, the salt that leaves my pores.
We drove an hour from Brecon down to Cardiff,
a plane to catch, a new job to begin.
She dropped me off but lingered for a long, long kiss,
I miss her now; my love, my lady Gwyn.
In my window seat, I glimpse a fishing trawler,
as Bristol Channel meets the Celtic Sea.
My heart grows lonesome as the boat grows smaller,
I long for Wales and all she means to me.
I miss her valleys, I miss her plains and lush, warm hills,
I miss her beauty that would make me stop and stare.
I miss her gardens, her leeks and lovely daffodils,
I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there.
I'll be thinking of her Welsh cakes and her laverbread,
I'll be thinking of our trips to Aberystwyth.
I'll be thinking of the beer we love, the tasty Cwtch red ale,
I'll be thinking of the one I'd drink it with.
I'd love to throw some darts and sing within her pubs,
I'd love to watch her rivers, lakes and coast.
I'd love to watch some matches of her rugby union clubs -
But the one I love is the one I'm missing most.
I miss her valleys, I miss her plains and lush, warm hills,
I miss her beauty that would make me stop and stare.
I miss her gardens, her leeks and lovely daffodils
I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there,
I miss my Wales, and the sweetheart I left there.
Written 16 June 2020
WALES 1 GERMANY didn’t
The Germans take great pride
In long words measured by the clock
But can they compete when vied
With Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
miles of sandy beaches
and the hills so green
the highest peaks
and lots of castles to be seen
the wooded mountains
deep beautiful valleys
and the long fairway
line with trees
this is my home
to leave i will never
cymru am byth
wales for ever
the long terrains
for taking endless walks
proud of our accent
and they way we talk
so when you come to wales
you have to be aware
so much of natural beauty
to be seen every where
the sheep on the pastures
and the grass so green
the most beautiful country sides
that i have ever seen
with people so friendly
with a pace thats slow
in lots of village and towns
where ever you go
singing land of our fathers
the national anthem
with hands on their chest
and pride in all of them
from the city of cadiff
to the port of swansea
cymru am byth
wales for ever for me
lots of celebrations
with music and dance
all coming together
singing and clapping hands
the taste of lava bread
bara brithe and cawl lamb stew
festivals of song and poetry
and the annual Eistedd fod too
the y. Ddraig goch
the red dragon
cymru am byth
wales for ever i belong
and in a house with a chimney
on the fairway
a proud daughter of wales
lives there today
cymru am byth
wales for ever
Ash Groves
“Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander
When twilight is fading I pensively rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely Ash Grove.
‘Tis there where the blackbird is cheerfully singing,
Each warbler enchants with his note from the tree,
Ah, then little I think of sorrow or sadness,
The Ash Grove enchanting spells beauty for me.”
Wales to me,
Though stranger to my step,
Like the Ash groves on rolling mountains
Blackbirds warble - long days of summer’s smile;
A pensive rover with my Welsh companions
Of Corgi’s, wily terriers
About my feet;
Honoring a Red Dragon, in this land of song
Where songs bequeathed to my heart -
Sung before my time - left for me sing;
In lyrics of canaries free of cages
Rising up from deep shafts of dark coal
Sing out their freedom;
Still heard in voyages ‘cross the Celtic Sea –
Pensive legends of home
‘Cross turbulent oceans;–
Finding rolling mountains to climb
Upon Liberty’s broad wings
To Ash groves of white and blue;
Ne’er forgetting Rock Rose or Snowden Lily
The Red Kite soaring
High up in Welsh hearts;
No more to pensively roam
Through new ash groves of freedom
In this new land of song -
New land of song.
“The ash grove, how graceful how plainly ‘tis speaking
The harp thro’ it playing has language for me…
The Ash Grove alone is my home.”
Based on the Welsh folk song “Ash Grove.”
Song form AABAABA
Part of my family came from Wales to Kentucky and Tennessee in the 1800’s. Their last name was Henderson.
7-2-20
Wales to me is a floating melody of soothing hums,
when sea breeze to tranquil shores comes,
sprinkling buried golden hues,
over swaying grassland in recluse.
Lulling little kids to breathe free -
in spiral dreams, come sing of Wales to me.
Wales is an exquisite painting of ancient mysteries,
of the hill forts from buried cities
that once bubbled exuberance in glee
now boast of a beauty carefree.
When daisies bloom in lilac spring,
asleep under soothing blankets sing,
oft shimmering crystals on canvas-
on starry nights, come paint Wales for me.
Wales is an unwritten muse to be poured in ink
from the red brick window turning pink,
preserved in the breeding-box valley,
shimmering dew on golden hay in old alley.
Rising aroma of cuisines from wet chimneys,
hustling wind rushing through wagon dinghies,
chasing me to the castle in hilltop fields -
in long lost pastures, write of Wales to me.
Wales is a rejuvenating dream that quenches my thirst
to explore unseen soaring bubbles burst,
taking me through white patches of dusk,
in blue skies drenching me with musk.
The mornings welcomed by chirping bird,
lamb white days riding with their herd,
mauve twilight sparkling rising moon,
beholding me from afar as I swoon.
Beyond continents and vast seas free -
loving people, come dream of Wales with me.
June 10, 2020
Wales Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
~Premiere Contest Winner: 3rd Place
A pretty Welsh girl in Caerphilly
Was invited to play ball with Willie
One kick to his ball
Caused Willie to fall
So she thought the game was quite silly!
One of the cultures of Wales
is the eisteddfod* where
people of all lands sing and dance
So many countries try to get to
Llangollen travelling many days
just to perform their dance, song or verse
Dressed in national dress of many hues
making it a colourful artistic event
The crowning of the Bard
Is one of the ceremonies
At the eisteddfod in Llangollen
to the winner of the poem
written in free verse. Whoever wins
is presented with a newly designed crown
A trumpet sounds, prayer chanted
Nom de plume read all is revealed
* nearest english word is session
~Diana, Princess Of Wales~
(Senryu)
The Princess of Wales
was beautiful and kind, Queen
of Hearts forever
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2007
April.22.2016
~Author's Notes:
Senryu (also called human haiku) is an unrhymed Japanese verse.They possess no references to the natural world and thus stand out from nature/seasonal haiku.
The Senryu, is a short poetic form which focuses on people: men, women, husbands, wives, children, relatives and other relations. It portrays the characteristics of human beings and psychology of the human mind.
A common misconception about senryu, is that it is exclusively a satirical and or humorous poetic genre. There's another side of senryu, a more serious side that express the misfortunes, the hardships and woe of humanity. Senryu that are serious in tone about romance, sex, family, friendship, marriage, and divorce — Senryu that express other moods and human emotions such as love, hate, anger, jealousy, sorrow, sadness, and fear — Senryu that portray the stark reality of the human condition — the facts, fashions, sports, social issues and life-styles of popular culture — Senryu that express passion and fullness of heart.
It all goes back to the earliest senryu that were composed in late 18th century Japan.
Estuary
the strong tide greets the sheltered stream
where life's hereafter dares to dream
a place where screeching, circling birds
fall silent to breath’s final words
where memories once formed on land
are carried by the shifting sand
to where the river meets the sea
and on then to eternity.
Aqueduct
where ten arches span time across the Ceiriog Valley
sheep lie in green pastures beneath a Welsh / English sky
as narrowboats above steer the canal of Llangollen
through shadows of high summer’s still quiet waters by.
MY HEART BELONGS TO WALES..............
Where the seas blue waters rise and fall,
Where the velvet hills stand strong and tall.
When the voice of bygone years does call,
I know where my heart belongs.
Where the voices of all angels sing,
In a stadia built fit for a king.
With a pride that's borne from deep within,
I know where my heart belongs.
As spring time flowers caress the lands,
Grass clad mountains and golden sands.
A passion that my past commands,
I know where my heart belongs.
When I come home, with friends I'll be,
In my homeland where my heart is free.
No prouder people than such as we,
My heart belongs to Wales.........
I liked its comforting and quiet
Enclosure from the time and rain
Designed to be impossible to sleep in
(Some vagrant friends reported miseries)
Shutting out the rest of the world
It became a space for answers
A sea-shell or confessional
Calming the small change of your soul
Adored no less by travellers
No doubt for its already ancient
Novelty it would not admit
The weak or infirm to its secrets
And such room inside limited
Admittance or forced proximity
Upon us if we shared a call.
Revered by Mum and Dad as
One familiar part of modern living
To me unvalued then missed
As a lost limb when it was gone.
St David our patron and wearer of daffies
Lynched by the English who named us all Taffies
With our fellow Celts, they feared we would stand
and repel Anglo-Saxons from all British land
But spring-time did come, along with a truce
The trumpets of yellow announcing the news
A change in the seasons, a break in the rain
The daffodils dance in the warm breeze again
*Happy St Davids day for March 1st
Dydd Gwyl Dewi I pawb yn Cymru ar Mawrth 1af*
For Francines Daffodil contest
29th Feb 2012
My heart has sought your mystery
guardian dryad, ivy tressed tree,
other worldly mound and ley;
long I’ve searched the fair Sidhe.
Here, found I the ancient long bone,
the knurled hawthorn, the Druid’s home.
Sheltered, shrouded, and overgrown
within St. Cyril’s grave well come.
At last, at last my longings free,
and I can dwell a time with thee
A time, past time, with all the wee
Before the banshee calls to me.
In the heart of Wales beneath shade of trees
In world's stillness relieving in pages
Of bloom gardens as playful fairies tease
Shape-shifting wizards man of the ages
Caught a top of a fire breathing dragon
Charm the beast my passion, have it happen
Eye people pulling their wears in wagons
Close my eyes and let my senses deepen
Wales inspires quills to write Myths and legends
Of British, King Arthur of Camelot
Swordsmanship of Sir Lancelot commends
Behold enchantment of a castle lot
Wales, mysterious and romantic past
Bewitching spells cast and memories last
3/10/2017
In Pembrokeshire, a paradise on earth,
You'll find a haven, peaceful, quiet, still:
Birds singing in the trees are full of mirth
Amid the Spring-green freshness, field and hill.
Such poetic place names : Penmaen Dewi
And Abercastle, St Justinian,
Solva, Caerfai, Porthclais, Abereiddy,
Porthgain, Dinas, Trefin, Aberteifi.
This coastline rivals Cornwall's rugged lines,
With sandy beaches, rocks and cliffs and coves;
Hidden places where tranquillity lies –
Relax, remote from noisy tourist droves.