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On The Farm

Rating: 3.1

There was Dai Puw. He was no good.
They put him in the fields to dock swedes,
And took the knife from him, when he came home
At late evening with a grin
Like the slash of a knife on his face.

There was Llew Puw, and he was no good.
Every evening after the ploughing
With the big tractor he would sit in his chair,
And stare into the tangled fire garden,

Opening his slow lips like a snail.
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Douglas Scotney 13 October 2014

I fear for the world if she lets them down

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Michael Dawes Smith 28 November 2007

A darkly comic poem.....full of implied menace and violence. The terse, judgemental voice of the narrator and slightly odd sounding names at times give the poem a feel reminiscent of a fairy story or folktale which lightens the tone.The last three lines bring a sense of hope but in a decidedly ambiguous manner ['life's dark book '...'shrill sentence']

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