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Llanfair PG
“Oh, you speak Welsh?”—here comes the refrain, The same bloody question yet once again. “Can you say the long funny place name?” As if that’s the height of my nation’s fame. Half of you here, born and bred, Would trip on the words, turn speech to dread. Yet somehow, it lingers, a tongue-twisting dare, A Victorian gimmick—a tourist’s snare. A name so long, a name so grand, Yet what does it offer but sea and sand? Rhosllannerchrugog, once proud and tall, Knocked from the top—no crown at all. John Morris-Jones and his tailoring mate, Sealed poor Rhos’s unlucky fate. And so we are left with a name that’s absurd, And…
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Llysfaen
Lying high on rugged ground, Limestone quarries all around. You’ll gaze in awe at hills and sea, Semaphore signals told ships where to be. From dockside days to village charm, A place I’ve called home, safe and warm. Evening light on cliffs so steep, Nature’s beauty ours to keep.
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Abergele
Amid rolling hills and coastal air, Beneath Gwrych Castle’s watchful stare. Echoes of history in stone so grand, Remembered stories of this land. Gentle waves at Pensarn’s shore, Ebb and flow forevermore. Laughter rings at Manorafon Farm, Embracing nature’s peaceful charm.
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Leading Lights
When you’re sight impaired like me, Light and dark are hard to see. But in this world, a guiding spark— A leading light to cut the dark. They come in many shapes and size, Golden coats, or deep brown eyes. A shepherd’s grace, a Labrador’s might, A guide dog glowing, strong and bright. To me, they are my eyes, my ears, A bridge beyond my deepest fears. But to the world? A pet, a game, A cruel excuse to cast their shame. Yet they are freedom, step by step, A steady path where doubts have crept. Not a status, not for show, A guiding light to help me go. But time moves on, the years slip by, And every…
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Life Sentence
A learning disability—a life sentence, they say,Hear me out, let me explain the way. Life’s not a box, but for many like me,It’s four tight walls, no space to be free. No places to go, no people to see, Confidence shattered, no self-belief. The world moves fast—9 to 5,But we just want to feel alive. We want to Stay Up Late, to break the mold,Yet mountains stand, high and cold. We climb, we push, but there’s only so far,Without a guide, without a star. A Gig Buddy won’t fix it all,But they’re the hand to catch our fall. A friend to walk beside, not ahead,To lift our spirits, not leave…
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A Bone to Pick
I’ve got a bone to pick with this world today, Where kindness fades and ego plays. Selfish minds, sharp tongues, quick hands, Spinning drama, making demands. It’s not your business, not your fight, Not your pot to stir at night. Yet here you stand, nose stuck in, Feeding the flames, thick as sin. Once, respect was something real, Hard work, strong hands on the wheel. No clicks, no likes, no viral fame, No need to make life one big game. But now the kind are dying out, And even the elders scream and shout. What happened to grace? To dignity’s place? Now all we see is a ruthless race. I’m tired of labels, of broken rules, Of people pretending…
