The Cailleach

Beara

The Cailleachan

The Queen Of Winter

Calls to the pale children

Crouched before their screen god

Gently coaxing

With icicled words

That chill their veins

Draw their eyes

Away from the magic box

Onto the glass

Of a mist-cornered windowpane

Stumbling to the door

Turning the handle

Falling into the soft cold world of reality

Read and leave comments (3)

Mynydd Du

muddy tears from the past

sliding down the cheeks

of those who remember them

the thunder obliterated a generation

that would benefit from the industry

of their fathers

who prayed it all would last

while bosses planned

to take away their livelihood and history

they piled the slurry

into an unreliable black mountain

towering over ever...

Read and leave comments (0)