MiSkriBa 25 - 02/30 - Mestron Mygyl

 #MiSkriBa dydh dew. Prompt an jydh hedhyw o chalenj dhe skrifa bardhonek a gows orth person yn tidro, ha henna yn unn gomprehendya ger gul, kehevelyans koynt, derivas a "fakt", ha neppyth a hevel yn-mes a'y le yn termyn (kepar ha kan Sonny & Cher yn bardhonek a-dro dhe vyth Grekek).

Gen an bardhonek ma my a vynnas skrifa dhe Walt Whitman, prydydh a garav, yn unn wruthyl an ger 'mestron' a 'mester' hag 'estron'. Remenans an bardhonek a yll kowsel rag y honan.

#NaPoWriMo day two. Today's prompt was a challenge to write a poem that directly addresses someone, and that includes a made-up word, an odd/unusual simile, a statement of “fact,” and something that seems out of place in time (like a Sonny & Cher song in a poem about a Greek myth).

With this poem I wanted to write to Walt Whitman, a poet I adore, creating the word 'mastranger' from 'master' and 'stranger'. The rest of the poem can speak for itself.

Mestron Mygyl

A dhen koth hag os jy, ny vynn'ta ow gesya vy yn ewn, mes hwath yth os mestron mygyl avel nafas nakevys a esedh yn gwav y honan, re helergh ow metya musellow min dhe asa blas brav. Hwegh gweyth po naw owth assaya bos duw ha pub prys yth os, mar vian dha lyverva mar ajonys dha vri, ha vyvy war dha lergh gen pluven a bar a skrif krommlegh geryow mes gasa lemen lownyow men. 

Half-hearted Mastranger.

Oh old man that you are, you don't mean to mock me, but still you are a half-hearted mastranger like a forgotten cuppa sitting in its own winter, too late in meeting lips to leave a favoured taste. Six times or nine attempting to be a god and every time you are, so small your library so familiar your fame, and me on your tail with a pen of sorts that writes a cromlech of words but only leaves stoney flakes.