
Thin whistle distant,
scree creeps,
screeps
sheeps
Cader Idris slopes
off to Dolgellau.
A massif thirst descending.
Old bards tools, blood and quill
discarded in a brogue,
bob along half tidy
Mawdach for
Cardigan’s litterol.
Watch Out!
Soul in fluxion.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related