Welsh Journals

Poet Down and Out HE has a heart Lonelier than eagles on Eyrie An eye more piercing Than any point of steel His mind more agile On high trapezes Of irrelevant adventures Than the air-borne acrobats Of Sangers' Circus. He sees gay ghosts in daylight, And, in the dark, Conjectural images Of what he might-have-been If only, indeed if only He had gone into business, Instead of impaling himself Permanently on spikes of poetry. Duw Mawr Consider his pockets. Predestined to pawn-tickets And catch, if you can, The thin, small echoes Of his pounds and pence and shillings Which have flown away singing Like the birds of Rhiannon. A. G. Prys-Jones,