Land Of My Fathers
The valley is ever green in my heart, the prettyest green you ever did see. As i look upon my valley, my heart starts to sing, from the depths i bring it, my Awen.. The harp lilts away at my heart strings, my body joins the dance, the fields, the streams, the rivers deep rise in chorus stance. Horses in the field now race to say hello, where shareing this happy, sunny day, wishing the hours away. The isle of dreaming comes to me as the sun beats down upon my face, peace and tranquility with me now, within my happy place. Trees greeting me fluttering there leaves have come to join the dance. Horsetails flicking at the flies swish, swosh there awrkward stance. Hares frolick in the meadow sweet, ambling on there way, horses now laying in the sun have welcomed me to stay. Green the leaves, green the grass, green tides of green. Sometimes the sun is masked from my sight and the rain drizzles as is seen. Grey is the day, grey the valley, grey the Rhodda grey. Faces of grey, terraced housed of grey, grey the mood, then all fades to black. The black is worse than the grey, it's the core of the dragons land, it takes you to the depths of despair this palpable black land. The wheel of indusry tells it's story, of the core of the earth, of anthracite and money lust that gave it it's birth. The racking cough that barrels over the chest. Is the sealing of the cromlech tomb. The omen sings it's song of death and sweet imminent doom. Oh my valley has many faces, many tales to tell, she is sometimes at the seas edge, drinking in it's swell. The tempest roaring as the sky meets the rising waves, the crashing of the waters deep, splattering into haze, the rumble of the violent sky and lightening acrosss the sea, the meeting of the elements, awsome and magical to me. Hear me now the energy soars swirling upon rockface and shore. Devouring sand, washing and cleansing as she goes. Hear me roar, so powerful at her core. Tendrils stretching over the shore. The many faces of the land of my fathers frequently come to visit me, she tells the tale of rock, sand turf and sea, but my valley is forever green in my heart and will always remain so, she tells me tails of wonderous times and not always tales of woe.
By
Penny Young
