Harp Strings

Welsh Woolens

Lyrics dry on low racks in the sun -- wool.
Wild bards want to run
But their wool, once washed and spun
Knits the many into one.                              

Poems that time combs from Cambrian hills -- poems
(Pompous with ancient frills)
Wrap words against ancient chills.
All hail the scale of their skills!         

Words that rhyme with time and tradition -- words.
Warden with a mission,
Shepherd beyond attrition,         
Condense the Welsh condition.

Words woven on a loom consummate -- cloth.
Clothing for the Welsh fate,
Designs that we designate              
The Welshest things we create.