First Hawarden* in the grounds of Gladstone’s home;
Then Ewloe, hidden in a small Welsh wood;
Next, Flint, crestfallen, overlooks the foam;
Holywell’s magic waters cure the good
Who bathe, kneel and kiss crosses like they should.
Rows of St Gwen* idols eye rosaries
Recited by rote. Rhuddlan of Clwyd*
Still guards the precious ford crossing, still sees
Through gaping empty eyes. Meanwhile, Denbigh’s
Omnipotence upon her hilltop throne
Is clear to all, while Bodelwyddan would
Pretend, impudent newcomer. Conwy’s
And Caernarfon’s shoreline masses of stone
Ensure seaborne supplies of English soldiers’ food.
Fri 2 Mar 2007
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