Llanrwyst,Wales

   
Llanrwst on a sunny day,  
beside the Conwy  river, diamond fresh,  
pebble strewn and bubbling,  
beneath the narrow bridge.
A dog’s delight chasing swans.  
Swim and drink your fill.  
Shirt sleeve weather,  
muddy paths from Monday rain,  
walking shoes not sandals.  
The drive across the hills  to me was new,  
 hawthorns late, with pale green leaves  
the ‘bread- and-cheese’ of child-hood,  
eaten on the way to school.  
Woolly sheep in hundreds, not a cow in sight,  
do not mention mint ,that would be unkind,  
mustard if you must!  
   
I drove for miles,along secret lanes,  
hamlets passed me by, names, all consonants  
Double ‘Ls’....... few vowels!  
Where I was, I  knew not,  
but was not lost   ...   ...   ...  
did not know where I was going!  
Nor cared.  
I'd left behind a friend to study for her work,  
Had five hours to spend on myself,  
climbed the nearest hill turning    
my back on caravans, sandy shore and sea.  
Llanrwst again,( let’s not forget ).  
Found the church ,oak door not locked.....    
Just push .    
Gentle streets behind, silence in the nave,  
a quiet day, a holy day. I was the only one to sit  
In the oak-dark pews,  
smels of bees-wax candles,  
organ keys smiling black and white.  
Major ,minor, melodies and vaulted roof.  
Beneath the tower pretty pulls hang limp,  
the bells heavy, silent waiting call to prayer,  
Twenty pray, so I'm told, on Sunday.  
A lady came to talk to me, Desiderata on the shelf,  
Made a copy for me, wished me ‘Nice day'  then  
Went to shop in town, left me silent once again.  
Whispers from the past, echoes drift round beams,  
Jacobean black and lime-wash white.  
Chancel arch from fifteen hundred.  
Beckoned..’Climb the steps’ but I stayed to think.  
Wished I could believe.......  
 Listened to the ponderous toc, of the tower clock,  
Tick out its pendulous measure.  
‘Oh, Lord support us all the  
day- long of this troublous life’  
Rose like incense smoke, as I took rest.  
I had to go, an hour left, just enough,  
Must not be late, took a shorter route  
along a white lined road, rushing east,    
between two statue limits.  
Order now, no sheep or soaring kestrel.  
primrose, daffodil and hawthorn  nowhere to be seen,  
Caravans and sand, police and traffic lights.  
We met ‘How did it go?’  
Shared pleasure and the day's frustrations  
coffee, chat, a walk to stretch class-room limbs    
and blow away the cobwebs.  
Gave her the keys switched on the music  
To drown the traffic noise...  
no birds to sooth the brow.  
No smell of bees-wax candles  
.