Sunday, July 26, 2020


In Translation
The English have no word for ‘cynefin’ claimed the Welsh farmer.
But in 2001 even lowland town-dwellers learned one,
Its comfortable sense of home coloured  by the sadness of a broken link, an empty hill.

My thoughts are hefted  on my place
In space, time, class and faith.

Behind each word a jumble of memories.
Nealopitan ice-cream on the wireless with homework on the dining table.
A bible-black, guitar playing, rabbit.
Family jokes, ‘mind the boggles’

If you read my words you read them in translation.



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Hefting is a system of livestock husbandry based on territorial instincts. A heft is both the name for the group of sheep and the area to which they restrict themselves, or are restricted by shepherding. There are a number of local words which describe hefting and these include walk, heugh, cut, hirsel, haunts, lear, lyrying, lairing, heafing and the welsh name is ‘cynefin’.
‘a flock established on a hill beyond living memory will thrive as they have come to terms with their environment’ Rough Fell Sheep Breeders Association (2007)


Thursday, March 26, 2020

Roll up that map


Roll up that map

Roll up that map.

With war the boundaries change

And pestilence obeys no border guards



Hang up that dress

Away with tights and shoes

Our hands no longer touch in dance.



Hand back the scores

The choir cannot meet

Our concert must be sung at home, alone.



Forget all plans.

Nature will mock man’s pride

And yet the sun still shines.



Away with gloom.

The celandines shine bright

Birds sing and butterflies still dance.