Last week’s poetry form was the extremely tricky Welsh form, awdll gywydd. It took a lot of fiddling with, but I’m satisfied it gave something pleasant to listen to. And a chance to repost Kerfe’s owl painting. You can read the other poems on Paul Brookes’ site here.

This dark night

I heard owl call this dark night,
When the light so bright had dimmed,
Saw his ghostly, silent flight,
Eerie sight, bone-white, sky-skimmed.

This night they walk, fox and deer,
Without fear, not here, for we
Are abed until the lark,
Though dogs bark, too dark to see.

Dawn will break, mother-of-pearl,
Day uncurl, unfurl, fill soon
With swifts. Till then shadows creep,
Blackbirds sleep, hares leap the moon.