Below is the contents of 'The Heart Of Poetry: First Journey'. The poems that are available online are in bigger, underlined text. Click on a poem to read it.
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//
The Welsh Lad of the Mountain
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...
His maroon shirt defining, and on the back
a knife a fork and spoon to say
he’s on the move for lunch today
rounding the cattle off the mountain.
And a black belt round his waist
strapped for wrestling the calves
his jeans from blue to green, the colour
to show he has all the courage.
The glistening short cut hair
trimmed to catch the sun
as across his shady brow he stares
through and over the mountain.
His eyes as sharp and keen
to see the stock on crag and mound
and his brawn to cast a shadow
as long as the distant horizon beyond.
His shoulders swish back and forward
as he sways to the lay of the land
saying; he's part of the stone that lies beneath
on his way up the Cwm and on.
With a smile as big as it says
And a dog or two behind,
A stick in the hand from one gone before
And he knows how to keep the shine.
As today and tomorrow he sees
the tussock, the heather, the kites,
the bleat of the sheep calling in mist
and the blades of the grass to the heights.
He has captured himself a promise
and to the girl he will one day keep
in this Welsh lad of the mountain, a spirit
and it is where his heart does sleep.
It is where he will always rise
and to be forever more his home,
to these Welsh Mountains and laid in stone
to all his weathering days.