29 APRIL 1966, Page 21

Her Name Like the Hours

Blodwen, Her name like the hours meditates a mood, The sea bursts banks of the sun; Blodwen.

Each letter a song that ends on an echo of wings.

She takes a snapshot of the tide full of sun, Her black hair blacker in the rain.

Signposts the only spoken Welsh,

Except where. dying the English language, Children spin in their first boat, a coracle, on the Tiefi, Wales all done by mirrors of lakes, rivers and waterfalls.

The wind wove the rain into a Brecon sun; Here, in first days of Primary, she traced her name in a box of sand.

her hand a balancing gull to the tide's pull. The sea turns to pearl in the shell of time.

GLORIA EVANS DAVIES'