O the knife
O The knife has stuck
So many times
Over this past year
Children’s faces fill my screen
For that is how ones see’s the doings
Of a world insane
Turn on the light
And darkness shows you
The way of it
Murdered
Killed
Death
Dead
Car crash
Plane crash
Bomb
Groomed
Lured to a lonely spot
Raped
Cut up
Dumped in a wood
In the boot of a car
Or just left wounded
To die of blood loss
O The knife
Devastated
Is the word I hear most?
Despair is what I feel
Bish 31/12/2021
Wasted Talent
Wasted talent is hard to keep
A feeling of importance
To take with sleep
Like one takes pills
To erase the day
Morning comes too soon
With lack of dreams
Tossing and turning
My life drags on
I try to hide
To slow down
To create a better memory
But like the tide
Time does not wait
And speeds ever faster
The next passage of
My life I fear the most
I wish I had not been
So gullible
So lost
So credulous
So quick to obey
Talent requires encouragement
Praise and appreciation
I obviously never had it
I just like most
Thought myself different
Thought myself special
But alas like everything
I will pass unnoticed
And fade away
Beyond any purpose
Worth mentioning
Bish 27/12/2021
If to be or not to be
Is the question
Then to be and not to be
Must be the answer
The monument stands on top of a hill called Mynydd Bach (Little mountain in English). It commemorates the work of four welsh poets; J.M Edwards, E Prosser Rhys, B.T Hopkins and T Hughes-Jones.
Edward Prosser-Rhys (1901-1945), journalist, poet and publisher; b. 4 March 1901 at Pentremynydd, Bethel ( Trefenter ), Mynydd Bach, Cards of Elizabeth and David Rees, a blacksmith, from a family of smiths, the family moved later to Morfa Du. As a child he attended Cofadail primary school and proceeded to Ardwyn grammar school (Aberystwyth county school) in 1914. He was there only for some eighteen months as his health broke down and he was at home ill for about three years. Having recovered he went to work at the Welsh Gazette office at Aberystwyth and in 1919 he moved to Caernarfon to the Herald Cymraeg office. He returned to Aberystwyth in 1921 and when Y Faner moved from Denbigh to Aberystwyth in 1923 , he was appointed editor , a position which he held till his death on 6 Febr. 1945. – information from Welsh Biography Online.
B. T. Hopkins (1897-1981), was a little know welsh poet who lived most of his life in Llais Aeron.
J. M. Edwards was a lyricist and poet Libre, some of his works are in a publication called Llais Aeron, No. 289, April 2006, and the Voice of Aeron.
Thomas Hughes-Jones (1895-1966), poet, writer and teacher; b. 23 Jan. 1895 in Tan-yr-allt, his mother’s home in the Blaenafon area of Blaenpennal parish, Cards. He was one of the two children and the only son of Rhys Jones, farmer, and his wife, Ann Hughes. He was raised at Cefnhendre Farm, in the same parish, but, on the death of his mother when he was only six years old, his father moved to Blaenaeron Farm. Next to Blaenaeron was Dolebolion , farmed by John Rowlands, a cultured man — a local poet and a master of cynghanedd. Information again taken from Welsh Biography Online with thanks.
This monument was put up as a memorial in 2004 to these poets who made their name in the area, the location being chosen by a decendant of one of the poets.
The Church Of St Bride
is a parish church of Norman origin. During the medieval period, it belonged to the Deanery of Ultra-Aeron. In 1158 Roger de Clare granted the church to the Knights Hospitaller of Slebech. In the later twelfth century the grant was confirmed by Rhys ap Gruffydd. In the later thirteenth century King Edward I transferred the church to the Bishop of St Davids. In 1833 the church was in the patronage of the Bishop of St Davids. The Church Of St Bride, Llansantffraed.
The church is dedicated to St Ffraed (Bride or Bridget in English c 450 – c 525) who was renowned for her acts of mercy and pity for the poor. She is reputed to he the patron saint of those engaged in dairy work and in the south wall stained glass window she is depicted holding a bowl of milk. After Patrick she is Ireland’s Patron Saint. She lived and founded a nunnery in Kildare the first erected in Ireland. The adoption of an Irish saint is probably due to the maritime links with Ireland that were possible through ship building along the Cardiganshire coast. Some of these ships were built here in the village of Llansantffraed. Trade and religion linked much of Wales to Ireland. Indeed, the Welsh church had strong Celtic origins before its later affiliation with Rome.
The land at Slebech
was donated to the Knights Hospitaller at some time between 1148 and 1176. It became a commandery and was the headquarters of the Knights Hospitaller in west Wales. Slebech was the third richest of the religious houses in Wales and amongst the wealthiest of the Hospitaller houses in England and Wales.
The commandery possessed two mills and a quay on the eastern Cleddau and received lands and churches throughout west Wales during the medieval period. Some of these still stand, such as St Michael’s Church in Rudbaxton. A literary source comments on the fine stained glass window at Slebech.
The Commandery was a stop over for pilgrims on their way to St David’s and this requirement to offer hospitality was sometimes a burden to the community at Slebech.
Following the dissolution of the commandery the Barlow family took possession of the house which became Slebech Park and estate.
Rhys ap Gruffydd or ap Gruffudd
(often anglicised to “Griffith”; c. 1132 – 28 April 1197) was the ruler of the kingdom of Deheubarth in south Wales from 1155 to 1197. Today, he is commonly known as The Lord Rhys, in Welsh Yr Arglwydd Rhys, although this title may have not been used in his lifetime.[2] He usually used the title “Proprietary Prince of Deheubarth” or “Prince of South Wales”, but two documents have been discovered in which he uses the title “Prince of Wales” or “Prince of the Welsh”.[3] Rhys was one of the most successful and powerful Welsh princes, and, after the death of Owain Gwynedd of Gwynedd in 1170, the dominant power in Wales.
Rhys’s grandfather, Rhys ap Tewdwr, was king of Deheubarth, and was killed at Brecon in 1093 by Bernard de Neufmarché. Following his death, most of Deheubarth was taken over by the Normans. Rhys’s father, Gruffydd ap Rhys, eventually was able to become ruler of a small portion, and more territory was won back by Rhys’s older brothers after Gruffydd’s death. Rhys became ruler of Deheubarth in 1155. He was forced to submit to King Henry II of England in 1158. Henry invaded Deheubarth in 1163, stripped Rhys of all his lands and took him prisoner. A few weeks later he was released and given back a small part of his holdings. Rhys made an alliance with Owain Gwynedd and, after the failure of another invasion of Wales by Henry in 1165, was able to win back most of his lands.
In 1171 Rhys made peace with King Henry and was confirmed in possession of his recent conquests as well as being named Justiciar of South Wales. He maintained good relations with King Henry until the latter’s death in 1189. Following Henry’s death Rhys revolted against Richard I and attacked the Norman lordships surrounding his territory, capturing a number of castles. In his later years Rhys had trouble keeping control of his sons, particularly Maelgwn and Gruffydd, who maintained a feud with each other. Rhys launched his last campaign against the Normans in 1196 and captured a number of castles. The following year he died unexpectedly and was buried in St Davids Cathedral.
B4085
A Christmas tree
There by the side of the road
Baubles tinsel festive decoration
Strange how we see such things
More and more
Who is it for?
What is it for?
Why cling on to such places
Would it not be better
To let them rest in your heart
Than at the side of a dirty road
I saw more flowers adorning
A hedgerow in Wales
A site of more sadness
Yes it made me look
But what did it make me think
We are all different I guess
I hope I would be able
To let loved ones go
placing such trivial things
At the place of their death
Seems to me a bit contrived
23 Dec 2021 Honeybourne Road
Then today in Aberaeron a Christmas decorated bench two hearts with simple messages.
One saying much love small child the other
Count all the gifts you have that money can’t buy
Two more sites on the way home distant from the roadside draped in trees dying flowers and wet paper.
Bish December 2021
Winter Solstice 21st 12th 2021
Winter solstice has me buried
In its miserable dim light
Every day is on a loop
I attempt to raise my hopes
But the morning drives
Me back to bed
I’ve created this misery
I locked myself up
Then threw away the key
I question purpose
All day and all night
Of course I already know
The answer
The outcome
December has thrown
It’s blanket over me
Pulled its weight up
Over my face
Left me here in darkness
Sad empty alone broken
All the 2s and 1s line up
Mocking my day
Light me a candle please
So I can escape myself
Bish 21/12/21
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