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Happy St Dwynwens Day! Patron Saint of Lovers

Happy St Dwynwens Day! Patron Saint of Lovers

Happy St Dwynwens day!

The sacred promontory: the Isle of Llanddwyn
The rood upon’t, that nod unto the world
Welcomes the penitent or lovelorn kin
Athwart the arm of the Lord:
The arm of the Holy sea, ubiquitous:
Annex of his Kingdom, acclivitous.

Down-drift canvasing the nimbus, ‘bout the isle
In a bosomed aspersion from heaven,
Covenant restin’ in the swell:
Cove Santes Dwyn, awell;
A spectacle wed together in constellation of seven
To crown the sable shores of our blessed Lord;
Dost beteem the banks: an epiphany shored;

For those who cease to advance love
Mad zeal would have them descend
Hither like the faithful pilgrim prove
Who seek the Paraclete divine: their hearts distend
Heavy in prayer, blend auspicious
In sublunar sphere beauteous.

Extract from ‘Of his glory is Dwynwen’s story’ by Liza M Jones

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Ministry in Ascension

Ministry in Ascension

Death have no covenant over me,
Eternal Son shepherd of divine grace,
By almighty trinity I will be
A mirror of the blameless face.

Eternal Son shepherd of divine grace,
The Holy seed of the trinity,
A mirror of the blameless face
Scribed in thy forehead eternity:

The Holy seed of the trinity,
To turn thee away from iniquities
Scribed in thy forehead eternity:
A seal of patient ministry,

To turn thee away from iniquities
For truth sake, immortality
A seal of patient ministry
Quickened thy flesh in majesty,

For truth sake, immortality
The father of lights,
Quickened thy flesh in majesty
With divine attributes of triunity,

The father of lights –
Begotten Lamb of Glory
With divine attributes of triunity,
Sacrificed by lips of shame to Calvary:

Begotten Lamb of Glory
The awe of Elysian flesh,
Sacrificed by lips of shame to Calvary
Hidden cross of the heart confess

The awe of Elysian flesh;
Lion of soul console,
Hidden cross of the heart confess
I partake in flesh and blood,

Lion of soul console;
Morning Star of salvation,
I partake in flesh and blood,
A disciple of his passion:

Morning Star of salvation,
By almighty trinity I will be
A disciple of his passion-
Death have no covenant over me.

By Jenny Amelia Jones

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Chaucerian roundel poem….. Daffodils

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Aswooning the yellow hue of the daffodil debut
In the hallowed niche of Penrhos grove, bestrewn
The trail, always evergreen and wildly overgrown

The book of nature turns its page: aspring awoo!
All the birds throng in the canopy in mesmeric tune
Aswooning the yellow hue of the daffodil debut!

Spellbound the fierce splendour, light imbues
Familiar boughs: squibs of the rainbow festoon;
Inspirit the air and all who come to commune
Aswooning the yellow hue of the daffodil debut!

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St Andrews Buckland Yew

St Andrews Buckland Yew

St Andrews Buckland Yew

The great yews council of tenants
Where roots divide the depths
Of every generation, a triumphant

Bed that binds mans footprint
In the pastures of time, divining
Heritage by generations that rent

Pockets of time from Gods acre, dividing
Roots that scribe through the terra,
As moving armies through the earth

Creating history within their flanks, era
Upon era mortality serves to clothe the reign
And swell the clod above and fear a

Prison below; the dark faithless abode
Of the Hecate dead, where death and rebirth
Are embodied in the yews heavy ode:

Dryad totem branch that lies next to death
And carries the spirit through the open door
Where earth primordial wraps the girth,

The great trunk thickens evermore,
Like the ever expanding universe,
Where dark conceives the light to fill the core.

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St Francis of Assisi

The sermon to my sister birds

Like the Shephard with his flock

St Francis of Assisi gives a benignant address;

The cathedral of the skies in thrall, cluster- cloistral

Athwart a quiver, dart hither and thither, muster-mistral

Twittering plumes descending

Leafy turrets athresh the ingress; kindling

In the diocese of boughed and blessed trees;

Whence wise oratories extolling

The glory of God, redound: (Author of created things- astound!)

Wellspring profound, the saint expounds,

His cronicles with holy zeal:

The abundance of his weal

‘Then shall the trees of the wood sing

out at the presence of the LORD,

because he cometh to judge the earth’.

He restoreth the arid streams and firth

Like a garment lapping the bosom of his infinite bays:

Channels of his safe harbour, whence the spring strays

The middle of the valley, tapers to the reaches of tall mountains:

Inaccessible; certes secure, way up high, in the altars of the lord,

Splendid nature, in flourishin’ grove; protection for the young

Each with his mate dwelling among

The canopies, in amplitude: The Mighty enabler

Proclaims this to make ye nobler!’

HIS virtues roused the chattering chorister,

The roost of rawkus Rooks, rise a’riot

The chackling Crows and Starling shrill, reprise

In sweet dulcet chirping of the *Eos Awen, allies

The composition: Commotion: squall and cries,

Stirs the brooding Ravens croak, in oaken aviaries;

Assemblin’ cacophony gives ear: auspices of August patrimony

Intonation a’thundering and chanting devotion, awoke

The sacred breasted robin: imbrued breastplate of the king

The bobbin’ warbling wren: all feathered a’swoonin’-kin.

A turtle-dove with myrtle sprig ascends aloft

Like a cherubim spreads its wings, oft

Abiding in majestic summits toward his eminence;

The rainbow end whence stars distend in halig pastures:

The Lord’s love transcends all understanding and overtures!

 

poem by Liza M JONES

*Eos Awen welsh for ‘poetic nightingale’

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Sovereign Drift

Sovereign Drift
Sovereign Drift

The ways of nature to augment
The greater triumph of ascent
Radiates a vast conception: chaos
By primordial arrow tipped in Logos,
Mix a kernel of mans fate infinite date?
………..
A wayfarers heart seeks a remote flame
Another man builds a preposterous claim
And weaves through the ruins the original curse:
Prospects rise by the profligate purse
And reclaims eternal clay for pay,

By Jenny Amelia Jones extract from Sovereign Drift photo of Holy Island Penrhos Nature Reserve

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Robin Red Breast

Photo taken in Penrhos Nature Reserve on Fridays Snow filled day.

Robin Red Breast
The robin blessed by Christ, communicate
The steadfast that plucked the pain
From the Holy brow, an honoured breastplate;

A crimson flush, from cruel crown, dissipate
The Saviours blood to the bearers reign,
The robin blessed by Christ, communicate

A faithful servant among the masses to proliferate
The adornment of a most sacred gain,
From the Holy brow, an honoured breastplate

A chorus in nature to emanate
The message of the saviours’ pain,
The robin blessed by Christ communicate:

A glorious passion for Almighty fate,
Amongst his flock to maintain
From the holy brow, an honoured breastplate

For all creatures to congregate
Throughout the plains Gods’ terrain,
The robin blessed by Christ, communicate
From the Holy brow, an honoured breastplate.
by Jenny Jones