MiSkriBa 2024 - 16 / 04 - Ow mires orth alsyow Fer Kulyek, a bell.

#MiskriBa re worras an prompt a skrifa bardhonek a dheskrif pyth po le, mes a worfenn gans linen dybella a hevel kepar ha ny dhesedh gen an pyth po le, mes yn hwir y tesedh. Rag hemma, my re dybis a'm tasgwynn, a verwis nans yw nebes 23 bledhen ha my flogh, ha'n tyller mayth ethen yn fenowgh... Yth omwovynnav mar kyllowgh hwi gweles pandr'a wrug vy yn tyffrans orth skrifa an bardhonek ma?

#NapoWriMo write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. For this, I thought about my grandad, who died about 23 years ago when I was a child, and the place we'd often go... I wonder if you can see what I've done differently when writing this poem?

Ow mires orth alsyow Fer Kulyek, a bell. An mergh a grash y’m diwskovarn Ow skrijya cirk delit Dell borthav dydhyow Sul dehen rew Ha koskow howllosk Yn seythynnyow niwlek termyn war-barth, Hwarthow glaswyn a dardh A skevens flogh a wev piben-son Ha’y vamm a bon dhe Snapya’n decken ma Dhe lyver-pastel nimbostratus A ankev hi, Mes a welyn.  War-nans an karrygi y lamm reunyon loos A-dreus dhe groustys bilien grennhes Ha luyow moryon a geskerdh a’n goswik gommon Dhe enep an als, Ow kildenna a vortid yeyn an dohajydh. Kres a froslemm a dalyow bedhyglus Hag y mirav orthys, Koloven ow yowynkneth, Bys vykken owth esedha yn neyth gwelen, Kurun lien a losk selsik glow koos Ha tesennow leun tewes A dhybryn oll Ha leverel assa add an gryt blas Avel devnydh kudh a dhownderow keynvor; Keskowethyans. Termyn tre a wra gwayans,  Y plegyn agan bewnansow, Fardella agan seghyer Dhe rosya’n fordh dhown-wiskys Yn minhwarth lehus, gorrys yn men. Tonnow a lap orth agan seudhelyow Ow plasa agan viaj a-varr y’n gorthugher, Hag unweyth finek y treylyn Dhe vires ha bedh an worwel Owth ygeri yn ledan Dhe lenki’n jydh. Yn keow goskeusys glas an mo avonsus Y kollav dha syns. Lemmyn y hwariav Fallout.

Looking at Hannafore cliffs, from afar. The crashing horses in my ears Scream a circus of delight As I endure ice cream Sundays And sunburn sleeps In the hazy weeks of time together. Sky blue laughter erupts From the lungs of a sound-pipe wielding child And their mother runs to Snap this moment Into a nimbostratus scrapbook That she forgets, But we see. Down the rocks the grey seals leap Over rounded pebble picnics As armies of ants march from the seaweed forest To the cliffe face, Retreating from the cool afternoon tide. Peace cascades from bellowing brows And I look at you, The pillar of my youth, Forever sat in a wicker nest, A kerchief crown burning charcoal sausages And sand filled cakes That we all eat And say how much the grit adds taste Like the secret ingredient from ocean's depths; Togetherness. Hometime beckons,  We fold our lives, Pack our baggage To hike the road worn deep In a dwindling smile, set in stone. Waves lap at our heels Tasting our early evening journey, And one last time we turn To watch horizon's grave Open wide To gulp the day. In the shaded green fields of advancing dusk I lose your grip. Now I'm playing Fallout.