Poem on Sunday: In English, I’m Not a Fan

Andrew Holden

When complicated structures form the plan

and twist my English tongue in contrived verse,

I must confess that I am not a fan.

Across a fourteen-century-long span,

the bards have found the beauty to traverse;

when complicated structures form the plan.

So picking up the baton then, I ran

and stumbled over consonants and worse;

I must confess that I am not a fan.

The elegance that lifts the heart of man

in Saesneg is not easy to coerce;

when complicated structures form the plan.

This challenge that I set and then began

to craft my words has now become a curse;

I must confess that I am not a fan.

Cynghanedd from the pens of those who can

use mother-tongue, the language to converse;

when complicated structures form the plan,

I must confess that I am not a fan.

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