Gwerful Merchain bawdy mediaeval Cymru poet , whose lyrical joy is a pleasure to read
Tag Archives: Wales
The Female Genitals
Every foolish drunken poet,
boorish vanity without ceasing,
(never may I warrant it,
I of great noble stock,)
has always declaimed fruitless praise
in song of the girls of the lands
all day long, certain gift,
most incompletely, by God the Father:
praising the hair, gown of fine love,
and every such living girl,
and lower down praising merrily
the brows above the eyes;
praising also, lovely shape,
the smoothness of the soft breasts,
and the beauty’s arms, bright drape,
she deserved honour, and the girl’s hands.
Then with his finest wizardry
before night he did sing,
he pays homage to God’s greatness,
fruitless eulogy with his tongue:
leaving the middle without praise
and the place where children are conceived,
and the warm quim, clear excellence,
tender and fat, bright fervent broken circle,
where I loved, in perfect health,
the quim below the smock.
You are a body of boundless strength,
a faultless court of fat’s plumage.
I declare, the quim is fair,
circle of broad-edged lips,
it is a valley longer than a spoon or a hand,
a ditch to hold a penis two hands long;
cunt there by the swelling arse,
song’s table with its double in red.
And the bright saints, men of the church,
when they get the chance, perfect gift,
don’t fail, highest blessing,
by Beuno, to give it a good feel.
For this reason, thorough rebuke,
all you proud poets,
let songs to the quim circulate
without fail to gain reward.
Sultan of an ode, it is silk,
little seam, curtain on a fine bright cunt,
flaps in a place of greeting,
the sour grove, it is full of love,
very proud forest, faultless gift,
tender frieze, fur of a fine pair of testicles,
a girl’s thick grove, circle of precious greeting,
lovely bush, God save it.
A poem from Gwerful Mechain a mediaeval poet and tavern owner and is the most erotic poet in Wales , yet her words have a formation that lingers and makes you yield to the pleasures
Brilliant piece on the Duke of Lancaster graffiti ship
Chris and I went for a wander a couple of weeks ago, we try to get one day a week where we just take off in the car and head wherever the pointer lands on the map. This time it landed on Wales, Talacre to be exact! Now this has become a bit of an in joke between us as Chris did ask me if i wanted to go to Talacre for our honeymoon 18 years ago. Silly me thought it was in Spain! When it is 5.5 miles as the crow flies from our home. 🙂 Well we didnt go then but have been since. This day was beautiful, one of those rare winter days of deep blue sky, warm sun and no need for a coat, perfect. We drove over the Shotton bridge, i am going back to photograph it, and meandered down to Mostyn. We had lunch…
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