When a bird flies
A lone seagull flies
And I open my eyes, as a breathtaking picture unfolds;
A silver grey sea
With wide canopy of soft sky with rain clouds of gold.
This coast brave and grand
Caused by God’s mighty hand, gives us blessings that echo his love.
White breakers crash
Granite rocks smash, such power sent down from above.
Yet a tender small flower
Carpets glistening showers in wide waves of colour o’er cliffs
Strong, yet shattered by time
Turned and twisted in lines, in segments of fine sculptured drifts.
He’s a purpose for all
If we hear his call and seeing his power are bid
Spread his wondrous words
As a gathering of birds we’ll see that his love is not hid.
Braund Family Home – Bucks Mills
The air is clear and hints of salty seas
Nearby, are blowing in on the fresh breeze.
The sky, pale azure blue and whitish bright
Its thermals lifting seabirds in their flight
Across the waves afar, but not so far
Away, waves are crashing to the shore.
But stay a while, the sounds from garden heard;
White-water flowing leat, the twittering birds,
The buzz of bees, and brothers’ distant calls,
A flip of white page, reader sleeps, it falls
Onto the new cut grass, green soft to foot.
Have they come home, it likely seems, perhaps not.
White walled the cottages: primrose, bluebell,
Industrious pride has gone, some ruins tell
Of times when Braunds out furious seas were blown;
Destinies written in the breaking foam.
That life birthed here a dynasty did spawn.
Bucks Mills will always draw Braund family home.
Written by Lizzie during a week spent at No 5 Forest Gardens, Bucks Mills following the 2008 Braund Reunion Weekend, attended with friend Simon, son of Gwendoline Braund (1911-1985) Branch 5.
Greener days in Pembrokeshire
Where spirit’s home
Valley deep, where salmon leap
Here minds free roam.
Tumbling river thunder heard
Harnessed power, made to work
Ease millers cares.
Godremamog Mill stands tall
Of slate and iron
Strong and safe of natural stone
Steep escarpment, green leaf clothed
Rain feeds them well
Water falls, the mill wheel turns
Ground flour to sell.
Offered now are five warm flats
For healthy rest
The mill works still to pay its way
Where air is best.
Breathing deep the eco life
Valued green days
Welcome to Godremamog Mill
A homely stay.
Lizzie wrote this poem after staying at the Mill in 2008 and 2009.
Visit their site and see how things have changed!
Godremamog Water Mill
Unique watermill self catering holidays
with hot tub & pool in beautiful West Wales
I feel the sun’s kind rays and gently rock
Winds flatter my hair, engines throb
The waves and rhythm of the rolling ship
But not this time
For us a land of splendid landscapes hidden
Mists, rain, winds, then gasp and want
A momentary touch of gold, of dance, of warmth
My sanctuary, a memory glimpsed, an essence of understanding
Mixed thoughts of home
Peace must come, an end to weariness, work, worry
I turn to the sun, and know that time has seen
Wounds bathed and will shape tomorrow.