Thursday, 3rd November, 2011.

The Return of the Prodigal!    

Yes, it’s been ages and ages since my last witterings here.   The reasons for this are many and varied.   In future, though, I have told myself to put something on this blog every week.   (Gosh – I bet you’ll sit there with bated breath in anticipation . . . !)

Last weekend, we had the great pleasure of having our younger, first-language-Welsh grand-daughter, Milly, staying with us.   She’s just started “big school” – Penweddig – where all lessons are taught via the medium of Welsh.   We’re very proud of her (and of you, too, Ceri) (Ceri’s my other grand-daughter).

Whilst here, Milly did her homework.   She knew I’d had poems published, so asked me to write a quick one for her to translate into Welsh – the subject the teacher had set was “Shaking”.   So I rushed off a bit of what I thought was doggerel (it looked very bardic in Milly’s translation!).  But – oh, heck – an emergency has just arisen!

Back.   The emergency was a pair of blue-tits in our kitchen!   They wouldn’t listen to our escape-instructions, so I had to chase ’em through the house and shoo ’em through the windows.

Any road up, here’s my piece of doggerel – I shall keep you posted on how Milly’s teacher reacted to her Welsh version.   (Please notethe Welsh words for “shaking” as in fear, and “shaking” as in hands are two separate ones – I used that as a poetic ploy.)

“I am shaking

Not with fear,

But with joy.

For I see

Friends shaking hands

And new acquaintances

Shaking hands.

The world is shaking

With love.”

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