Written by E..C. Hopkins

I suppose it could be if someone had bothered A poem to write if enough had been gathered Of folklore and tales that once did abound In Cwmbran and Pontnewydd and places around Like the time when old puck of welsh fairy fame Who lived in a farmhouse Ty-Pwca by name Disgruntled and weary of his present abode Feeling not wanted he dairywards strode Rolled himself up in a rounded welsh cheese Then heaved himself hillward with consumate ease Over mountain and valley he onwardly rolled Stopped for a rest when evening bell tolled Onwards he trundled at suns early smile Decided at last after many a mile That a farmhouse near would be his new mode But gains are most doubtful on progress road Let mention be made of Barlym�s fair mound Of fairies that dance there while singing their round On late summer evenings or early cocks crow Its said you can see them if quietly you go Sit silent, not stirring and keep yourself mute But who would dare try on that famous kings suit When the forge hooter sounded its accurate call And clocks where then set by one and all Heard by the creatures at Llantarnam lodge close Atop their columns in listening pose On dark winter nights when we young were in bed would scamper down quickly or so it was said To play in the road come rain, storm or gale Lest the very last sound of that long drawn out wail Would die on the night they would quickly recall Back to their vigil on pedestals tall But alas, they will scamper no more in the road Long gone is the call that stone ears adored Until the day they too will fall Stone grist to the mill and part of the pall That hangs over progress road
Llantarnam Road has its tale to tell
Of St. Michael�s Church and its silent bell
A row of tall trees as they stately stride
Facing Court Farm on the opposite side
Unweakened by age and sitting well
Host to a long hidden secret cell
Monks retreat concealed behind dark panelled oak
All to be vanquished by single pens stroke
White lady ghost or be it cistertion
Of Llantarnam Park in pale consternation
Wails in the night at this further donation
To the progress road

When �Dicky the lock� held irrascable sway
From Ty-Coch and beyond to down Newport way
Canal and verges kept tidy and neat
And tow-path was level �neath iron shoe feet
Of big muscled horses taking the strain
As they plodded on strongly driverless through rain
Durable, reliable in summer time too
In trilby or straw hat with ears poking through

Taut on the rope gliding behind
Long wooden barge bearing industries kind
Silent through dark pools where trout may lurk
Stone bridges with numbers and lock gates that work
Swans sitting proudly on grass they�ve amassed
Marks in the stonework where barges have passed

You walked with respect in Dickey's domain
His wrath was much stronger than stern teacher�s cane
It waited the day to become litters abode
It had not yet started on progress road.: Elizabeth Williams : This Poem that was written many years ago by my late Grandfather Edward Hopkins.

The Lament of Lower Pontnewydd

.. The Lament of Lower Pontnewydd ..

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

The time of Phil Morris has come to an end.

Mediocrity's happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Poachers poached`till the game's all gone

Endangered species `ve happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Planners planned `till the green fields `re spent

Urbanisation's happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Developers clamoured for your precious land

Devoured! Overcrowding's happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Avondale Tin Works consortium fodder

Annihilation's happened to you

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Bureaucrats closed the quaint village school

Neutralisation�s happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Industrialists came: intruding, infecting

New technology�s happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Immigrants came: invading �n� meddling

Foreign Outsiders have happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Ebenezer engulfed by buildings of commerce

Secularisation�s happened to you.

What has become of you Lower Pontnewydd,

What has happened to you?

Away the crystal river from fresh mountain springs

Pervasive pollution�s happened to you.

Diolch Yn Fawr ..

Diolch Yn Fawr

In this land that inspires and fuels such dreams,

Where the bread is fresh daily from Heaven,

We have heroes in red, fifteen to a team,

And the champion elect wears eleven,

Such a champion that none would deny him his place

He gives us new reason to sing

It's said that his shadow is stretched to keep pace

When he flies like a hawk on the wing,

In this game that produces such passion and pride,

We have heroes in each generation,

So to champion elect and the rest of the side,

The thanks and respect of the nation.

Andrew Tovey 2008.

The Pillow

As I wake each morning

a new day to fill,

On the pillow beside me

I picture you still.

That sweet kindly face,

that wonderful smile

And I kiss the pillow and lay there awhile.

Yes, I will put on my cheery old face

and greet those I see as they pass me in haste.

I'll busy my day with so many chores

that I'll hardly have time to think of the cause

of the sadness within, of the loneliness too,

I'm surrounded by people

But none of them you.

But when I retreat to our room for the night,

I lay down and wearily switch off the light.

It's then that I feel you by my side

Comforting me, soothing me, and my arms open wide

to hold you again as it used to be

till the morning comes, just you and me,

And I kiss the pillow, tearfully.

Jackie Hindley

21st April 1999

.. We'll Miss You Dad ..

As I lay still and sound asleep,

I dreamed I heard my Father speak,

Unlike the thousand times before,

This time the dream seemed so much more,

The voice said, "Son, I've watched you age,

I've seen your life through every stage,

Though not full three score years and ten

Your soul must leave the world of men".

I then reply,

"Though weary now, I long to stay,

So beg reprieve, for just one day,

Loved ones here must understand

My leaving comes at death's command,

Then once alone so none may see,

I'll shed a tear for what must be,

With goodbyes said and family blessed,

I'll join you in eternal rest",

With a start, I then awoke,

And saw the face of he that spoke,

Then vision fades and next appear,

Faces that I hold so dear,

My children still and sound asleep,

I understand and softly weep,

Through tears then whisper, "Don't be sad",

The choked reply "We'll miss you Dad".

(Andrew Tovey)

.. This is it ..

This is it .... just wait and see,

Soon ... there will be less of me,

This time I � ll do it, there is no doubt,

`Cos, inside this fat me,

A Thin One, is trying to get Out !!

Leotard is bought, aerobic tape is set,

Jump up and down. till I start to sweat

Pulse is racing, face all red,

Hope my heart can stand it ...

Don�t want to be thin ... and dead.

Salads, are all I seem to eat

Fromage frais a special treat

Sometimes this makes me sad you see

`Cos when God gave out Fat

Why did he give most of it to ..... me?

(Sue Smith)

To The Fallen (and their dream).

Though decades may pass since their glory,

If the war to end wars their belief,

Do they give up their lives for a story,

Scant remembrance if short is the peace.

What value life given in battle,

When the voice of the fallen unheard,

Allows sabre to once again rattle,

To prove that no lesson was learned.

So let the heroes of past generations,

Teach us well lest their memory be shamed,

And never more in the name of a nation,

Need some foreign field corner be claimed.

For all time then in heartfelt contrition,

As proof that their death songs resound,

Bring their dream of wars end to fruition,

With respect then the peace can be found.

(Andrew Tovey)

A Clean Break

Coal dust no longer invades every chest,
Hillsides grow ever more green,
No more the blue scar like a company crest,
Nor skin that never comes clean,
No more retching chorus to wish you goodnight,
A new breed of Welshman is found,
This nation resurfaced into the light,
No more will we toil underground,
With passion and pride but still many a tear,
We realise the true price of coal,
And wonder again if the cost was too dear,
Did each sack full take Welsh heart and soul.

(Andrew Tovey)

.. Home ..

Why does my homeland still linger within,
When since leaving a lifetime has passed,
What need now for me of country and kin,
With the distance between us so vast,
What magical spell now compels me,
To long for her faithful embrace,
And abandon this land that has kept me,
To return to that far distant place,
Does she now call me home to my duty,
To take back the life that she gave,
When young I was blind to her beauty,
But want no other place for my grave.

(Andrew Tovey)

Land of my Fathers



   What's left in the valleys,

    Now there's no coal,

   No life in the steel works,

   No pride on the dole,

Where's the hope for our future,

   The song in our soul,

   No reason to sing,

No pride on the dole.

   The dragon has slumbered,

    While sleeping did dream,

    And raged at the plunder,

   Of each underground seam,

For the scars that were left.

   By that richest black vein,

   Are cut deep in it's heart,

    And will always remain.

   But stirred by the singing,

     Of an army long dead,

    The beast of the valleys,

   Once again raised its head,

    And the spark that ignites,

    All hearts of Welsh gold,

    Rekindled the fire,

   That warmed us of old.

Now the mountains re-echo,

    The deepest sweet sound,

   Of the choir of Welshmen,

    Long lost underground,

   Proclaiming the greatest,

    Of victories won,

Their song not forgotten,

    Their spirit lives on.

(Andrew Tovey)

Poor Old Man

   The old man lay down in the alley,
   With the bottle, his now only friend,
   Each night brought peace and some comfort,
   Another long day would soon end.

   The buildings around gave him shelter,
   The night wind could cut like a knife,
   The last of the drink that he cradled,
   Would bring sleep and sweet dreams of his wife.

   Unjustly life's hardships had claimed her,
   He never could quite understand,
   How he hadn`t been able to save her,
   When he'd held on so tight to her hand.

   So he settled himself in the shadows,
   And wished her goodnight in his prayers,
   For in dreamland he quickly could find her,
   At the top of the heaven bound stairs.

   He smiled as the cold came to take him,
   With no fear he welcomed its bite,
   The pain of his loneliness left him,
   He slept warm in her arms from that night.

(Andrew Tovey)

To the Children in Australia, I wish you were there to see

All the beautiful sights I had seen, and drink their English tea

It was autumn time when we got there, with 50 shades of green

The parks had wild squirrels running around

Collecting the nuts all over the ground

Up and down the trees so fast

In and out they all dart past

The houses there look so small

For once I felt really tall

To meet so many of ones relations

Far too many with invitations

The streets are narrow, small cars drive past

Some people speak Welsh and very fast

The sky was grey mostly, no clouds to be seen

Up in the plane though, they were white, fluffy and clean

Seeing mountains, museums, cottages and castles

The memories I will keep forever, No hassles

It was all so interesting, but I have to shout!

Australia my home, is the best without doubt!

At least when mum talks about where she was born

She probably won�t get so sad and torn

Between these lovely countries of ours

We will be able to talk for hours and hours

About all the places we have seen

Mum�s school, where she was born, and places we�ve been

I was sorry to leave aunties, uncles, cousins and Nan

I will visit them again, if ever I can

I will picture them all in my mind with no trouble

The places, relations, parks, and the nice Welsh people!

I got some news the other day
That nearly blew my socks away
It's going to change my life a lot
It kind of put me on the spot

My son and his future wife came in
And on his face a great big grin
They both looked across at me and my wife
And then uttered the words
That are going to change my life.
" you`re going to be a Granddad
And mam you'll be a granny"

Well I nearly choked on my cup of tea
Then I got right up and danced with glee
We kissed them both
Then gave them a hug
Then all danced around on the living room rug

We are now the happiest couple
That could ever, ever be
Soon we'll have a grandchild
Then maybe two or three.

(Dennis Baker)

As soon as Jim walks out the door

I let my sweetheart in - for sure!

He runs inside to cuddle me;

I know that he will stay for tea.

And like all males, he loves a fuss,

Especially when his hair I brush.

He always wants me, him to groom,

And doesn't want to leave the room.

He talks to me in nonsense sounds,

In voice so rich, my heart just pounds.

The loving isn't all one-way,

I hug and kiss him through the day!

When winter winds blow rough and raw

We snuggle up to chat and jaw;

And on the rug, beside the fire,

We hold on tight, we never tire.

Though he's not mine, him I just borrow,

I hope it will not cause much sorrow.

I love him so, our love's just grown,

Dear Dusty, cat, from two doors down!

(Ruth Lydia Daly)

While taking a stroll this lovely day,

sixty years have rolled away.

On top of the hill just gazing around,

pensively viewing Cwmbran`s New Town.

Exploiting the scene just taking it in,

memories flew back, like birds on the wing.

Over and over in my mind they ran,

People and places in this Old Cwmbran.

Straight in front a `shopping centre of glamour`,

while there just by a place called Forge-Hammer.

Now here was a place you couldn't be sad,

through all the depression when things were bad.

Old houses they were but the people within,

could give it and take right there on the chin.

Looking left the old Colliery site,

where colliers worked by day and by night.

Thinking of ponies, buttees and lamps.

Living it over like one in a trance.

True comrades these fellows in ways and talk.

You'll never find better where `ere you walk.

The Tump, Llantarnam, Upper Cwmbran,

Oh what changes but not in the man.

Their living abode some have changed and all that,

to the old pioneers we take off our hats.

Penywain fields have all disappeared,

what lovely old walks they were through the years.

Then there was Grange Road on Sunday night,

there we would stroll in search for a wife.

Now it's Girling and Saunders instead;

Plenty of toil but romance is dead,

but there I suppose we move with the trend,

It's nice to see people with money to spend.

I'll never feel lonely not here in this spot,

things come to life and they mean such a lot.

Standing here just looking around,

Watching old houses bulldozed to the ground.

Things look nice according to plan,

but memories cling to the old place of Cwmbran.

The walk to the mountains through old Maes-y-Rhiw,

where mushrooms, watercress and blackberries grew.

That scene from the mountain, that lovely fresh air,

Farm houses dotted put here and there.

Peace and serenity seemed to abound,

Now all you see is ripping up ground.

For dwellings and such for people to live,

But reminiscence as long as I give;

My thoughts to the old place whatever the change,

Our tent on the mountain, singing `Home on the Range`.

Though modernised now and planning was clever,

Mother Nature's lost her place in Coed Eva.

Rabbits, Hares, Cows, Sheep roamed the land,

where there a brand new school now stands.

Then little old Oakfield you couldn't go wrong,

on Saturday nights for a game and a song.

There again they have new estates,

Where, the strolls were nice, the hunting was great.

Yet with all it's changes it's proud that I am,

of being a citizen of this New Town .... Cwmbran.

( B.D.McDowell )

    Just follow the rainbow to a far off land,
    with rolling mountains, lush meadows and golden sand.

    Look for a waterfall, that glistens and gleams,
    a place to create and nurture your dreams.

    Now bathe in it's waters, crystal clear and pure,
    and cleanse your soul of heartache, that you need not endure.

    Then look to the future with a positive eye,
    set free your Spirit and reach for the sky.

         For what You ... `Think` is what `You are`,
          And not ... `What You Think You Are`.

(Webmaster)

How can I tell you, what can I do,
Our love is no longer exciting and new.
I need you to hold me, to show me you care,
To want me to want you, to know that you're there.

I can't help but wonder if everything's fine,
I have a deep feeling that you're no longer mine.
I'm so tired of fighting, it's hurting my soul,
It eats at my heart and leaves an unfillable hole.

So if you can't find it within you to stay,
Then please don't look back as you're walking away,
I may try to stop you, and that would be wrong,
Baby I need now for you to be strong.

We both need our freedom, some peace in our hearts,
Time for some thinking,- perhaps a new start,
Two people so different, if only we'd known,
That we'd both end up hurting, afraid and alone.

There's some consolation, a beautiful son,
Who's happy and bubbly and so full of fun,
So I couldn't forget you as hard as I try,
For when I look at him, and he catches my eye.

I remember that look as I've seen it in you,
Think back to the 'old days', you'll remember it too,
It told me you'd love me, stay with me 'always'
Care for each other 'till the end of our days'.

Where has it all gone ? - no longer "goodnight"
No kisses or cuddles, - just argue and fight,
I've sat here so empty, so sad and alone,
Wanting to hear your voice on the phone.

Tormenting myself with the things I don't know.
Creating a scene 'till the tears start to flow,
Tossing, and turning alone in my bed,
With thoughts of you spinning around in my head.

No shoulder to cry on, I miss you so much,
The warmth of your body, the strength of your touch.

So when you are led there,- all lonely and cold,
And you no longer have me, to love and to hold.
Just think of the times that we shared - That were ours,
The closeness we had in our 'Ivory Towers'.

So if you can honestly stand there and say,
"I no longer want you"

... Then - 'Just Walk Away' ...

( Debbie Evans )

If throughout the unguarded moment of the evening
Sadness has crept into your heart,
Let it sail away with the setting sun,
Because tonight is God's night for peacemaking.

( by Debbie Evans )

A Master who is firm but kind,

and understands a `Doggie` mind;

A `Walkie` and a meal each day,

That's all I ask for, when I pray.

The Moon beckons, reflecting on an amber coat,

The Sniper - 'Stealth' is her name,

She crouches...............Perfectly still,

Then,

Snatches yet another unwilling victim.

Unselfishly, 'Stealth' gives up her prize,

Chattering, Snarling jaws,

Only one more to leave her lair

.... Maybe this time?

Heat, Searing pain, weak and cold,

Nothing but feathers and lead,

'Stealth' is now her Orphans prize !

( Debbie Evans )