Cares y Bwlch

They say I ate the flesh of men, cursed me although they eat the flesh of my land. Although they grind its bones to make their bread, they denied and cursed my millstones. They were so terrified of disappearing into the gap of my mouth they stopped riding through the pass and called for a…

Guest Post: ‘Gwynn’s Guest’by Robin Herne

Written in Tawddgyrch cadwynog metre, this poem is a response to the story in the Life of St Collen, wherein the saint received an invite from Gwynn app Nudd to visit him in his royal residence atop Glastonbury Tor. After much persuasion, the saint attended the feast and violated guest law by hurling holy water…