Form: Free verse
Endless heat that summer
of 76. Kids chasing the haze
of fun. Running over and over
the dried grass desperate for rain.
Save water posters. In shop windows
and in the camp site showers
but we kids didn’t get it
with ice creams sat on the beach
then out for a swim with the dog
salt water crystalizing on hair and
on skin. Husky dry nights the fields
withered up like a scruffy old man.
Me and my little bro squealing
at the chill. Ice waters of mountain pools
falling from the sky, for once we agreed
dad was a nutter climbing to the peak.
‘Who wants to touch the sky anyway?’
Seems I did years later looking down from
the top of Wales and remembering back
to those days while sipping isotonic
A breather, before heading higher
climbing to touch diverse skies
where mountain peaks are sacred ground
there the gods reached down
Perhaps dad knew more than
two kids understood and found his truth
atop a mountain where the old gods dwell
and take reality to the next level
when the dare came to stay the night
on the poet’s chair gazing over
Tal-y-llyn; a goddess calling me home
to the land of the bards
©JGFarmer2020
A Garret Poet 