Welsh Journals

Children in Three Cliffs Who forgives the fleeting years ? They are sudden as swallows flicking the spent summer with a southward twist -fleeing- ephemeral like the blown mist in hollows vanishing when early mornings come. My child's laughter tinkles down the long goings his tears squeeze through the years' capillaries the tessellated days and nights and the bleached slivers of his moments are soon gone -the sea foam of passing waves- The fleeting years, who will forgive them? Who forget ? Walks and Talks by VICTOR THOMAS SINCE WE REPORTED IN Gower XV, members of the Society have made many explorations of places near home and further afield. Our prime interest is, of course, the Peninsula however familiar it may be, our walking parties never tire of traversing the coastal paths at Port Eynon or Rhosili or Llangennith, probing the wood- lands at Oxwich and Nicholaston, or wending their way through the bracken on the Downs. J. C. EVANS