North Wales

Those beautiful black stone buildings
I love them I just feel
I am entering a gothic time
For me it’s very real
The Mountain Ash
Who saved the life of Thor
Centuries ago
Bending into the swiftly moving river
Down below

The Rowan orange to red
The berry
Never eaten raw
Cook it then it’s edible
And some come back for more

They grow beside Lake Tegid Bala that’s North Wales
In Autumn all those crimson berries
Conjure up such tales
Of another famous poet one Taliesin
Who
Lived in the sixth century
As he was want to do

A natural lake
It’s banks protected
Lots of great stones lie
Reed wet meadows
Green hay seeding
Watching motors speeding by
Over yonder beautiful mountains
Sucking mists into their soul
Pumping out a bounteous ferment
A so exquisite gentle role.