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The opening scene a poem by Tim Williams ( Welsh Poet )

user image 2014-03-14
By: Tim Williams2
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THE OPENING SCENE TIM WILLIAMS MARCH 2014

GREY VALLEY HOUSES, STANDING
ON SLOPING HILLSIDES, LIKE FORGOTTEN GRAVESTONES
THE TREE'S, COWERING AND FREIGHTENED BY THE ELEMENTS
BOWED AND BATTERED, GIVE WEAK SHELTER TO GRANITE SHEEP
HARDY AS MINERS, CROWDED BENEATH, FOR CLOUDING WARMTH.

ON THIS ARCTIC LIKE, MOUNTAIN TOPPED MORNING
THE BITING WIND GNAWS INSESSANTLY AT THE MARROW OF BONES
SLICING LIKE DAI BUTCHER'S SUNDAY BEST KNIFE, THROUGH
LONG JOHN'D LAYERED " WHERE'S YOUR VEST " CLOTHING
HOT TEA WOULD BRING A TINGLE TO YOUR TIPS.

DEATH "THE GREAT STIFFENER " SQUINTS AN EYE
AS THE SUN TAKES A PEAK AT THE VALLEY WAKING, AND
FROM UNDER HIS CHEQUERED WELSH BLANKET
SHAKES HIS HEAD , ROLLS OVER MUTTERING
" THOSE OLD BONES WILL KEEP ".

THE BLACK KETTLE BLOWS IT'S FINAL WHISTLE
JUST IN TIME FOR TEA AND BARA BRITH
A CLOSE RELATION TO THE BLACK LEAD STOVE
BUT MANY TIMES REMOVED. MOTHER SHOUTS
" TEA , WATKIN BACH " AND SO THE DAY BEGINS.