Yesterday I took a trip to Builth Wells in Wales to go to Wonderwool, a wool and textiles festival which was so much more than I expected, full of amazing yarns, cool crafting tools, beautiful creations from clothing to decorations and even an “under the sea” themed knitted & crocheted grotto, and also a few live sheep and alpacas. It was great and I made a few modest purchases and picked up dozens of business cards and leaflets.
The day inspired a poem, and here it is. I used the meter and rhyming structure from On Wenlock Edge by A E Housman.
On looming peaks the Welsh sheep graze
In shadowed glen and green hillside
Beneath scudding clouds and sun’s bright rays
They chew the grass, quite satisfied
As golden daffodils droop brown
And newborn lambs leap, jump and skip,
The Welsh hill’s bride must shed her gown –
Dark winter has released his grip
And I, upon the road below
Drive home from Builth Wells with car full
And glimpse those sheep who cannot know
Their fleeces have become my wool
Where I bought it – there was art!
Creative crafts I want to learn
Beauty formed from wool and heart
With my purchase I take my turn
Beneath scudding clouds and sun’s bright rays
I sit with crochet on my knee
The wool which in those colder days
Once warmed the ewe, will soon warm me.
