Poetry

William enjoys writing poetry but has not yet sought to publish a collection of his poetic works. Until that time, he hopes that you enjoy a few of his poems here.

Memories of gododdin

Where is the horn that was blowing?

It bellowed a brazen note before the ardent host: hundred princes, a hundred kings, a hundred knights of noble mien with flashing brands in their hands and a rousing song on their lips.

Where is the harp that was stirring?

Singing, sighing, sending souls smoldering and stirring stout hearts to nobler deeds.

Where are the words that were spoken?

They anointed all with wisdom and wrought a wonder, waking weapons to wreak wrath.

Lost is the horn that blew,

Lost the harp that stirred,

Lost the words spoken,

And lost the noble host.

Shattered on the Saxon spears, having waged all war, having spent all strength, three hundred heroes harried hordes of pagan princes, pondering not the price of pride, but freely felling and freely falling. They fought to the furthest and fell to the final fighter.

Silent is the hall of heroes, silent the hills where they gathered, and silent the fields that rang. I, Aneirin, alone announce the awesome act, the glorious waste.

dying fire

Cold the smoking coals that burned

Brightly flickering, bringing mem’ries

Of a hundred other evenings

Now they lying, near to dying,

Choke on mountains, cheer once bearing

Brought the ashes, barren fated

Fields of doom fearless smother

Airless mothers, hairless under

Grayed mem’ries, greet the burning

Dawn

Reluctant pilgrim

Dutifully I pledge my love though love is far from me

And sullenly I gave my heart to He who holds the key

Painful is the pilgrim’s path and lonely is the road

So timidly I set myself to bear the cross’ load

Reluctantly I gave my life to pay the heavy toll

And rising was surprised to find I hadn’t lost my soul

But coaxing God has led me down a green and pleasant path

And spared me from my cruel will and the lashings of his wrath

Well now I love my Lord for the loving of his son

But often times I still forget the things that He has done

Yet when the tides of fallen men do carry me away

I know my kind and gentle Lord will bring me to the bay

The honeyed ease of life

There is a honeyed ease to life

When the twilight lingers in summer grass

And time is only here to pass.

Where there is neither night or day

And all may stay or pass away

It means naught to me

For all that moves is a bumble bee

She knows the joys of stopping for a drink

At a flowers petal sink

And from that ever yellow fuzz

Comes a soft and content buzz

There she sighs and rests a while

Like a sun-warmed crocodile

She and I can sit and think

In the pleasant air of twilight’s brink

Here is the honeyed ease of life.

Café Poem (To a barista) 4/29/18

Careful morning slowly sips

While gazing at the flower tips

Wond’ring whether fonds of fern

Did ever for a flower yearn

Christian clover growing ‘round

Kissed caíliní upon the ground

Taking moments there to lie

Shaping, dreams in the summer sky

The Return 5/2/18

Sing to me, you ancient oaks

Awaken, you mossy stones

Long ago to men you spoke

Fallen now to naught but bones

Stir yourselves, as I command

Redeemer of my fathers,

I’ve returned to ancestral land

My voice weak, so I’ve sought hers

Fair Eiru

Poetic Inspiration 5/5/18

Waters springing, winding through me

Bubbles raising brazen wordings

Clearly flowing, crystal ringing

Falling silver fiercely spoken.

Hard the striking, heavy meanings

Fell the rulers, fire the nobler

Hearts to battle, hoisting standards

Brightly singing, bearing tales of

Heroes slaying heathen armies

Perils daring, peace is failing

Valor rises, Vict’ry sings.

The Stone of Destiny 5/9/18

Danu’s children, destined sailed

Ploughing ocean, prizes bearing

Still the greatest, silent standing

Remains watching rolling eons

Pass to dusty plaster pieces

Patient fortune ponders kingship

Would it utter words of judgement

Had the hero’s hand not striking

Silenced august Seer of Fates?

Poets

Poets walk in careful light

Seeing poems with second sight

Flitting ‘round in dreaming day

Catching all the things to say

A Raenor Poem 5/18/18

Heroes must die, honor’s buried

Beneath earthen barrows with it

Hope is lying, he is waiting

Power shone from piercing gaze

Sunset bore he, sword of sunlit

Hills we mourned, heaving sailing

Sought a newer shelter beyond

sund’ring waves, seas of unknown

Public house 5/20/18

Dark wood stained by happy use

poor men caught in richer stew

Black beer makes the smiling loose

Let me get a pint for you

Stout hearts drink the stouter stuff

Sweet ones have a cider gold

Raise your song with voices gruff

Here still lives a hall of old

Sea strand

Crippled gnarled, creaking pines

Long for ceasing, leaving lonely

Leas of sweeping leaves that color

Simply mocking seas of greater

Lights that call them leave for fairer

Lands that misty lie beyond the

Waves of breaking western wonders

dropping slow

Sorrow comes in rhythmic tides

That sweeping pull away our love

And joy rains like March’s ides

As sudden gifts from clouds above

But peace drips in quiet night

And slowly beads unseen

Until we rise in morning’s light

To find its golden gleam