Glyndwr Laid To Rest
When he was finally broken, I carried him;
my steadfast prince, my ysbrydoliaeth*, who I’d shed
blood beside as Rhuthun burned, and at Dinbych,
Rhuddlan, Y Fflint, the capture of Caerfyrddin.
He set the kingdom alight; set me, us, alight.
But the English winter had frozen the dragon’s breath;
I could feel his chilling draught against my neck.
My hands dug the earth which was to be blessed
with his bones. And as he broke my heart, I dropped
on his this tonne: Our fall will be faith;
we’ll never accept you’re gone.
*ysbrydoliaeth – inspiration (Welsh).
Brett Evans lives, writes and drinks in his native north Wales. His poems have featured in several UK journals and online, his debut pamphlet – The Devil’s Tattoo – is forthcoming from Indigo Dreams Publishing in 2015. Brett is co-founder and co-editor of Prole. http://www.prolebooks.co.uk/
