In the torrent salmon sun
the mouth of time sucked, like a sponge,
wind in me leaped, the hellborn dew
tread like a naked Venus
through salt and root and roe.
With doom in the bulb, spring unravels,
greenwood dying as deer fall in their tracks.
We in our Eden knew the secret guardian –
no tell-tale lover has an end more certain,
dumbly and divinely stumbling,
for half of love was planted in the lost
worm in the scalp. Now at my sheet
goes the same crooked worm,
how light sleeping in this soily star.
It shall be said that gods are stone.
Mary Bast, 2014
Various from The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas
There was Dai Puw. He was no good.
They put him in the fields to dock swedes,
And altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house
The gentleman lay graveward with his furies.
There was Llew Puw, and he was no good.
Every evening after the ploughing
With the big tractor he would sit in his chair,
Opening his slow lips like a snail.
And, from his fork, a dog among the fairies.
There was Huw Puw, too. What shall I say?
Old cock from nowheres and the heaven’s egg,
Hatched from the windy salvage on one leg,
I have heard him whistling in the hedges
On and on. In France they killed him,
back in March, the very night of the blizzard, too.
Seth Crook, 2014
On the Farm, by R.S. Thomas
Altarwise by Owl-Light, by Dylan Thomas
As the Team’s Head Brass, by Edward Thomas
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
like a red, red rose
that’s newly sprung in June;
that blasts the roots of trees
is like the melodie
that’s sweetly play’d in tune.
The force that drives the water through the rocks
till a’ the seas gang dry:
till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
is like the hand that whirls the water in the pool.
Seth Crook, 2014
A Red, Red Rose, by Robert Burns
The Force that through the Green Fuse, by Dylan Thomas