Poems...

//A Flock of Birds// Reading Between the Lines// The Gift// A Mother’s Love// Level in My Breeze// My Burning Desires// We’re Going To See Graham Today// Clocks// The Meadow// Evening Stream// Beacons// Unconditional Love// Honey and Vanilla Ballet// Beads// The Photograph// Sitting on the Banks of the Wye// Spritual Princess// Drops of Heaven// Pen Y Fan// Chill// The Wardrobe// Y Mynydd Du// Life Time// To A Pilot Who Guides Me On My Path// First Journey// Floating Feather// Early Morning Caesarian// Mrs Davies// The special effects of flakes// The Welsh Lad of the Mountain// Hush Now. Just Listen.// A Welsh Mountain Kind// Blowing Down The Cwm// Destiny// Drive Your Own Screensaver// Maximus And His Friend// The Dance Of The Queens// 10th of March 2007//

Introduction to 'The special effects of flakes':

Written after Tb testing in the snow on a farm near Brecon

...

Through the wooden slats of the barn

The snow flakes reflect a strobe

Like the sun’s sparkling glint on rippled

Water, a flickering that is; of never before,

And never after, a film developing frame by frame

Caught by the light and just continuously being,

Presently aware; and between I ask

After all, it is to my journey reflected

as I look back in retrospect; with regret!

Or if I have, it is for me to return now, to analyse

To ask, why am I feeling this way?

Thoughts of who did this or that to me.

And it is only for me to rectify

to realise the existence of this light

in the passing of these flakes

And if I look too far into the future

the slats will not be there; as I will not be there

to see these effects; as special as they are,

for preoccupation is to my own impatience:

drifting here, drifting there; as the snow flakes are

But If I stand to them in stillness; of mind and body

I see their motion disappear, the aging process slows

as do all my fears; as do all my worries;

for it is to a presence that I get to see

these special qualities these flakes do make;

to these timeless motionless journeys

that I know that I can take;

and never to be, for granted.

I walk out to a pond thats covered in snow;

To flakes that have already fallen.

Never to beckon their calling.