Sitting to the east

Sloping down to the edge  

Of that other world

In the summer sun

In the winter chill

The sentinel watched over

The little family in the cottage in the hollow

Lately it had felt her sorrow  

It knew when she left Pant y Lleiniau

And walked slowly along the cart track

To reach the little bridge under the trees

Where she crossed Nant yr Efail ...

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This is my return to the submissions list after seven months of travel, during which I was often either incommunicado, or almost so. Technical wizardry does not always work as advertised. I do not seem to be able to suppress my historical bent.

Lincoln Triptych

Part One: Defiance

A land made soft

by Heaven's tears, cried

thru' blankets hung aloft.

Some ask wit...

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