Hyacinth moon

Y Tir Cwastraff

April is the miracle month

Resurrecting life 

from dead land

fecund Ram 

flood moon

The moment in full colour,

Steeped in plenty, 

Womb full desire. 

Weaving  memory

On scented breeze.

The perfection of being 

In the sheer forever now.

The seed sap 

bright liquid dawn.

Sun surges 

through stem 

the engine of leaf

the engine of me

The force that

Explodes blossom

That drives my blood

Knows no winter

Sees only

Death the generator

April is the fifth Force 

Surprising us with

sudden rain 

shivering the lakes surface

‘Coffiwch! Dim Sais! Cymro dw'i!

Go iawn Celt!’

We called across the lake

of the drowned village
As the submerged bell rang.

But we knew them of old

So rung  a slow curse.

Mixing blood and soil

Wild hyacinth scented
Cauldron monthed

Wild moon miasma,

Thunder struck by creation:

loveless you will be

In the unreal city

Virus ridden lost ape 

Alone in the karma cafe 

Rain streaked windows

Lives measured out

In cigarets and ringed

coffee cups

Plastic spoons.

With no real home

Nor hope in deliverance 

Educated far beyond 

Our Intelligence 

Loser

Success

Like bloody evening falls, 

Over my content 

My heart slows

Under its seductive whisper 

A gold feather of lead

A cup of tea gone cold

An empty hall 

A closed theatre

vacant seats

Something just not right

The candle gutters

A lazy Spider crawls

Shadow play on walls

As I wait 

in the dust 

Of silence 

foolish I 

Poor silly man 

Wanting it all

But never catch as can,

Must be content 

With my discontent 

I consent 

But at what cost?

For had I won the universe 

And you,

I still would say I’d lost it all

And say it was not true