Rhys’s Dream
After discovering some early writings concerning Pontyddim an addiction fell upon the young Rhys whose obsession with learning its mysteries soon overtook his waking and sleeping life.
Quagmire
The night of mystery,
strange illusions in the dark,
the shrill chirpings of crickets
echo throughout the barren waste ground.
Decaying bodies lay before me,
sun-silk spiked with the lace shrouds
hanging from the slit throats
of the sappers,
their blood drowns the land
with sorrow and discontent.
Their eyes look to me
and their hands reach out,
trying to grab me and drag me down
into the marsh, as I’m looking
for my exit home,
my shallow haven
where I can feign death
until morning.
J. Edgar Rhys (1886)
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Founder and Editor of Pilgrim House, currently researching folklore and early Welsh Christianity and curator of the archives of the lost village of Pontyddim.
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