Billy Wynt.

Little
is said
of Billy Wynt,
sternly standing,
penetrating high
into the gloom
of leaden sky.


Billy Wynt
proud to be
lasting sentinel
over Rhondda,
grim beacon
to the vale,
silence unbroken.


Billy Wynt,
its lofty height,
sad witness
to the cruel firing
of Iesu Grist, the pale child,
on Llantrisant hill
with steep slopes grey and wild.



Billy Wynt,
once breathing
gently the air
with the three saints
of ancient Morganwg,
Illtyd, Gwynfo,
And the wise Tyfydog.


Consciousness
of stone,
Billy Wynt crumbles,
unenduring frontier
vulnerable to tempest
and its potential to destroy
its majestic form.