Cardigan's First XV (A Cardi Rugby Poem)

This excellent poem was published in the Cardigan Tivy Side Advertister last week.

In it, author Ron Waldron reminds us of the battle between Lord Rhys and the Normans and envisages, with a rugby analogy, which 15 Cardigan residents would be best placed to lead that battle if ever it were repeated.

It is very much a poem for 'Cardis', as the names are all local to us but I was pleasantly surprised that I was included at Number 9 - Scrum Half!

I've put a note at the bottom of the poem to explain who each individual is - it makes the poem read even better when you realise how Ron has cleverly put it together!

Cardigan's First XV

Though rugby's now much cleaner

I thought it would be right

To start up front with Melfydd George

In case they pick a fight.

And when as fists were flying

Things got from bad to worse

His fellow prop from Oernant

Could remember them, in verse.

Then, Dai Pen-lan as Hooker

The wizard of the sums

And also when it's added up

As asset in the scrums.

And then there's Father Seamus

Who'll wear the shirt with pride

He's reckoned to be harder

Than Willie John McBride.

And Wynford's pleasant manner

Would drive opponents mad

He'd smile and play, he'd charm the ref,

And he's also Deiniol's dad.

You need that something special

To play at number six

And that is why I'm tepmpted

To put Catrin in the mix.

A fast and clever flanker

Can make the others play

And here again we're lucky

For Llwyd is Tony Gray.

At number eight there's Gwynfi,

A mountain of a man,

It's taken us nine hundered years

To knit his Cardigan.

Behind the pack it's vital

To have a young Mark Cole

He's always there in every picture

And always on the ball.

At outside half Wyn Lewis

Conductor of the band

For he can set the tempo

Just with a sleight of hand.

At centre, to block channels

Lyn Jenkins has his say

And he'll have the guts to tackle

Big boys who'll come his way.

Still fresh from last year's trimpuh

Ceri Wyn would leave them dead

Crash tackling in the centre

Blue basin on his head.

And on the fringe, Aneurin

A spirit bold and free

A finisher with vision

And a touch of artistry.

We've got in Colin Phillips

A winger ready made

And with the battle over

He could pick up some trade.

And there would be no conceding

Our prospects would be fine

While there's an Adams-Lewis

To guard the language line.

So should the Normans try again

To win at Banc Y Warin

The Arglwydd Rhys in this lot's blood

Once more would send them packing.

Ron Waldron, Cardigan

NB

Melfydd George - A 'larger than life' Cardigan Town Councillor and former Mayor.

Emyr Oernant - Another 'larger than life' local farmer and poet.

Dai Pen-lan - Another 'larger than life' retired local personality and accountant.

Father Seamus - Well regarded retired Catholic priest and local historian.

Wynford Jones - Well liked Cardigan Town Council Clerk and also father to Welsh rugby international player Deiniol Jones.

Catrin Miles - Current Deputy Mayor of Cardigan and a Ceredigion County Councillor.

Llwyd Edwards - Local architect and a Cardigan Town Councillor. A twice Mayor of Cardigan.

Gwynfi Jenkins - 'Father' to the Town Council and a 3 times Mayor of Cardigan.

Mark Cole - That'll be me!

Wyn Lewis - Local farmer and conductor to local National Eisteddfod winning choir, Ar Ol Tri.

Lyn Jenkins - Local farmer and businessman who has a reputation for taking on the authorities.

Ceri Wyn Jones - Local Chair and Crown winning National Eisteddfod poet (Blue basin meaning his crown).

Aneurin Jones - Famed local artist.

Colin Phillips - Well known local funeral director!

John Adams-Lewis - A Cardigan and Ceredigion County Councillor. A twice Mayor of Cardigan.

A Thought-Provoking 80th Birthday Poem

An 80+ year old friend of mine wrote this excellent and thought-provoking poem on reaching his 80th birthday.

Please read it and pass it on to your Member of Parliament and to everyone else you know.

Birthday Ode

I've reached the age of eighty, and to celebrate the day,

The generous hand of government will now increase my pay.

Now that I'm old, and tired, and needy, they have come to my defence.

And with fanfare from the trumpets give twenty five whole bright new pence.

A munificent addition, which I'll wisely spend, and well,

The main problem's where to start on it, it's really hard to tell.

Two ounces more of butter, or a half an ounce of cheese,

Half an apple, half a 'Mars Bar', which one will really please?

The weather's feeling cold today, perhaps I'll stay in bed,

For a single hour's electric fire will put me in the red.

I could walk to the newsagents, read the headlines in the press,

But with war, and sex, and politicians, it's likely to depress.

So I'll just put on the kettle and make a cup of tea,

The cost of doing it's the value that they put on you and me.

I'd like to write to my MP, as an old and needy 'Gramp',

And send it them by first class post, if I could afford a stamp.

I notice that their salaries are always kept in line,

With the increased cost of living, and the rising price of wine.

Do they ever stop to think that those now eighty years of age,

Have worked since nineteen forty four for salary or wage.

We all survived a war in which so many others died,

To keep this country free and fair, a matter of some pride.

Our governments find money for all they choose to do,

Go to war, or build an airport for the benefit of few.

So why not push the boat out, make it fifty pence instead,

We might say an extra thank you when we kneel down by the bed.

The efforts of our lives have been the fuel creating wealth,

We'd like just a little more of it to keep us in good health.

P.E.B Written on 7th December 2008