Llan Gwener

Tread not the bluebell

Take care you not bend a single stem

For the May Mother dotes on her blooms

She rises up in fiercest wrath

The last snow

Tired and dry

Drinks the air

They say she always takes a life with her

By debt or transgression

We do not know

But these

They close their eyes in silence

And with flesh incorruptible

Her saints, her promised children

Go to their glory in mist

"Mae'r eira olaf, amdo angau. "

"The last snow, a burial shroud."

- old Llangwener adage

Some are twilight creatures only

In half dark they pass through doorways of shade

Dusky shades of cobalt and brief

They only come to fill the space

-For Day and Night cannot touch

Though always they are lovers

Poor Sir James, Sweet Sir James

Stay and play with us another game

None walk the old road at night

We speak not in sport, we speak not in spite

For none walk the old road at night

The wind cannot answer, the earth will not weep

Our river is hungry, and our dead do not sleep

"Beneath these stones

Sleeping bones

Slate and crystal, blood and memories

The mountain dreams

And so it seems

We rest in the shadow of buried gods"

"O dan y cerrig hyn

Esgyrn cwsg

Lechen a grisial, gwaed ac atgofion

Mae'r mynydd yn breuddwydio

A felly mae'n ymddangos

Gorphwyswn yng nghysgod Duwiau claddedig"

- Mari Jones

They say She moves in winter twilight,

Kissing away the last of the weak sun's breath.

And now languidly stretches her luminous, searing limbs, heavy...bloodless.

"I've missed you, Lover..."

Then the vixen cried