“ … yn ieungtit y dydd kyuodi a oruc a dyuot y Lynn Cuch”
“ … when the day was still young he arose and went to Glyn Cuch”
Pwyll Pendefig Dyfed
A borderland, a place
where counties meet and merge:
Caerfyrddin’s bright fields of green,
Preseli’s blue-brown intensities of light
Afon Cuch’s silver-blue stream
(call it ‘glas’ for blue, green, crystal)
running north to Teifi’s thrice-bordered flow
Somewhere here Dulas – ‘Blackwater’ –
(so many of these with variant names)
falls down to Cuch through a rocky crevice,
a meeting of waters from different domains.
Rivulets of enchantment flow
running across and between
parcels of land of different hues
from streams that spring and bound
scattering reflected light, blue, green,
flickering in forests on dappled tracks
where white-pelted, red-eared hounds
run with a ripple of light on their backs;
where Rhiannon might ride on another day
to Pwyll at Gorsedd Arberth, revealed
like a rainbow out of air: here, not-here, there.
Rigantona 
I love the colours in this image and poem 🙂
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