Poet on a Hill

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Tales From the Welsh Valleys

Dai sits on a hillside, looking out over the Bristol Channel.
   Along comes his butty, Owen.   
   ‘Hi, Dai,’ says Owen. ‘You look pissed-off.’
   ‘Well …’ says Dai. ‘See those boats, down in the harbour there?’
   ‘Yes, Dai,’ says Owen.
   ‘Well, who built those boats?’ asks Dai.
   ‘You did,’ says Owen.’
   ‘Do they call me, Dai the boat-builder?’ asks Dai.
   ‘No, Dai,’ says Owen.
   ‘See those houses, down there?’ says Dai. ‘Who built those houses?’
   ‘You did,’ says Owen.
   ‘Do they call me, Dai the house-builder?’ asks Dai.
   ‘No, Dai,’ says Owen.
   ‘See those fields on the hillside?’ says Dai.
   ‘Yes, Dai,’ says Owen.
   ‘Who ploughed those fields?’ asks Dai.
   ‘You did,’ says Owen.
   ‘Do they call me, Dai the ploughman?’ asks Dai.
   ‘No, Dai,’ says Owen.
   ‘But one bloody sheep …’ says Dai.