laverbread (bara lawr)
give me your ebony tears,
my darling sea;
spill your black maidenhair,
over sea’s rock and chair;
this laver bred,
from the menu of the sea,
so deliciously a minded.
the sad blood of dulse is moaning
on the battle-tides of wales
rumplestiltskin bladderwrack
is swaying on the loom of the sea
the booming sea-sky a gloaming
above the haunted forests of kelp
on and on the sirens call
come on, come on, come on.
long in picking,
under the chiding sun;
long in washing,
until the moonshine;
long boiled down
in fond anticipation.
in oatmeal faery-dusted,
fried with bacon and cockles;
this breakfast from gower
fit for the king of neptune.
wide eyed,
welsh-hat black,
black as the coal in our veins,
the steelworks at night.
ours
it is,
in our way,
eaten by us welsh,
swansea market stalled,
a memory in taste
of the sea,
for you,
for
me.
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