The West Glamorgan Dragons & The Mountain Daughters Of Annwn by Paul Tristram

There’s a ram’s skull, horseshoe-nailed,
to a hollow, tawny owled, old oak tree,
at the foot of the first mountain climb.
Carefully placed empty, cider flagon bottles
mark hidden hedgerow entrances and passageways.
The fields and meadows directioned
by saplings bent or snapped in cowpats…
you need a quick, Welsh mind
to rhythm this pulsing countryside.
The traps are many, complicated and dangerous…
constructed for ‘Screaming’ rather than ‘Fatality’
The dogs do not bark nor full moon howl,
and are bred to avoid the open ground,
except following wind-whistles and running-the-hunt.
You’ve more chance of seeing ghosts…
yet, they pride in numbers, these ragged hillsides.
Not a waterfall crossing, cave tunnel
nor inner-wood foot trail remain long unwatched.
Each Gravestone is a living Tree,
selected by a Warrior’s heart,
Celtic knot-worked by blood and ancestry
into The Living Path which re-births onwards Eternal.

paul smoking - Copy

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!

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