Ronald Stuart Thomas

(1913 - 2000 / Cardiff / Wales)

Ronald Stuart Thomas Poems

1. The Absence 9/16/2015
2. Forest Dwellers 2/11/2016
3. The Bright Field 2/29/2016
4. A Marriage 2/3/2015
5. The Dance 12/25/2014
6. Thirteen Blackbirds Looking At A Man 1/3/2003
7. The Woman 1/13/2003
8. The Old Language 1/3/2003
9. The Village 1/13/2003
10. The Dark Well 1/3/2003
11. Welsh History 1/3/2003
12. Sorry 1/13/2003
13. The Ancients Of The World 1/3/2003
14. Album 1/13/2003
15. Taliesin 1/3/2003
16. The Way Of It 1/3/2003
17. Poetry For Supper 1/13/2003
18. Ruins 1/3/2003
19. Evans 1/13/2003
20. Good 1/3/2003
21. An Old Man 1/13/2003
22. Welsh Landscape 1/13/2003
23. Night And Morning 1/3/2003
24. A Welshman To Any Tourist 1/3/2003
25. Praise 1/3/2003
26. Chapel Deacon 1/13/2003
27. A Welsh Testament 1/13/2003
28. A Peasant 1/13/2003
29. The Cat And The Sea 1/3/2003
30. Here 1/3/2003
31. On The Farm 1/13/2003
32. Death Of A Poet 1/13/2003
33. Pisces 1/3/2003
34. Ninetieth Birthday 1/13/2003
35. Children's Song 1/13/2003
36. A Day In Autumn 3/21/2004
37. A Blackbird Singing 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Ronald Stuart Thomas

A Blackbird Singing

It seems wrong that out of this bird,
Black, bold, a suggestion of dark
Places about it, there yet should come
Such rich music, as though the notes'
Ore were changed to a rare metal
At one touch of that bright bill.

You have heard it often, alone at your desk
In a green April, your mind drawn
Away from its work by sweet disturbance
Of the mild evening outside your room.

A slow singer, but loading each phrase
With history's overtones, love, joy
And grief learned by his dark tribe
In other orchards and passed on
Instinctively as they are ...

Read the full of A Blackbird Singing

A Welsh Testament

All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?
I spoke a tongue that was passed on
To me in the place I happened to be,
A place huddled between grey walls
Of cloud for at least half the year.
My word for heaven was not yours.
The word for hell had a sharp edge
Put on it by the hand of the wind
Honing, honing with a shrill sound

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