kfg moore

For Gwyndaf, Wendy and Niamh: A poem

A welcome is called for here in the cwtch of the valley,
Hard by the soft and sibilant sweep of our softened Severn,
For a new and-oh so very special Celtic-made creation,
Forged from the heat and love of a shared and sharing language.

But as so often happens in the birthing of such beauty,
The price is paid, in the agonised time of bartered living,
Each poet and artist knows blood and pain-based making,
Burnt in the heat and loss of a tried but failing language.

Still, into the frightening ebb and inconsistent flow of life,
Emerged a girl, far too early-thrown for certain breathing,
But then the creative force and love of parents made a place
Where a Niamh can breathe, in an old but living language
 
© kfg moore (with love to the three of you)