In order to post more often, I'm going to try something different. The following piece is from my poetry collection Guernen Sang Again: Pryderi's Pigs and other poems, available as a free download on Lulu.com. This one is a riddle - I'll post the answer on thursday.
no box of wood this treasure bright can hold
nor can one mind its meaning wide enfold
each in his way some part of it may own -
a weapon sharp each in his way must hone,
or endless stream that sings as it does flow,
or garden bright where brilliant flowers grow.
if you’re unable still to name this prize,
the answer’s here before your dreaming eyes!
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