I've had a few messages interested in RS Thomas, so thought you might enjoy another taste: this is from his Collected Poems 1946-1968

Song for Gwdion

When I was a child and the soft flesh was forming
Quietly as snow on the bare boughs of bone,
My father brought me trout from the green river
From whose chill lips the water song had flown.

Dull grew their eyes, the beautiful, blithe garland
Of stipples faded, as light shocked the brain;
They were the first sweet sacrifice I tasted,
A young god, ignorant of the blood’s stain.



Bloodaxe Books 1986
ISBN 0 906427 96 7