Hands up for Sun Rays


Hands up for the sunrays that catch your eye

Despite the coming night and the frightening light

Birds on the water pecking at the slime

They dine on the grime of Mother Nature’s table.

Free and sublime and true and able.


Rolling through, scene by scene

Green blur and Déjà vu

Mean voices behind me

Sailboats and houses

An ancient castle;

A Hangover from the days of Mercia

Black cows and rough tough bulls with white horns

Slurping ants.

Sheep, as you would expect. Indiscreet woolen mammals

Attention to the ground

With no sound

Clay-clad riverbanks and marsh reeds

Less than half a cup of tea

My muse is electricity.


“Are you serious?” In a welsh accent.

Hearing peoples’ conversations

But they’re not as loud as my thoughts.


Ought to question. Beg to differ

The discrepancies between

What you think

What you know

What you show

What is real?

What do you feel?

Imagine. Realise. Dream. See. Be.

You are just like me.

“You will shortly be arriving at Camarthen.”