With the sunrise they came
in flowing white robes
otherworldly bards
minstrels and the like
to gather
in the hidden place, carved
by the ancients
whose pervading spirits
awaited in rays of light
with open arms
Oh, let the drums beat loudly
to stir regents and royalty
of ages past
as well as
souls yet bound
to earthly shells
"holy be they
and they before them."
Let morning
with the clap of mighty trees
greet them all
this ethereal procession
and may the elements
and earth be pleased by this
sacred occasion
where merriment be uplifted.
Adding your comment:
Your poem makes me so happy, though it would be great to read something like this in Welsh! Oh well.
