Arthur Cole wrote this poem after one of the members of his Facebook Group mentioned in conversation the Welsh poet Ellis Humphrey Evans. aka 'Hedd Wyn' aka 'Fleur de Lis' 'Hedd Wyn' was killed on the first day of battle at Passchendale, Belgium 1917, he had just finished his manuscript 'Yr Arwr-The Hero' He won the bardic chair at the 1917 National Eisteddfod, posthumously, where it was shrouded in black as a mark of respect, he had been killed six weeks before.   

'Hedd Wyn...Blessed Peace'
On that bleak Western front, he took his last breath,
a Welsh man of peace, a Bard heaven blessed.
Prose was his passion, nature, religion, romance,
default conscripted, to the battlefields of France.
Tending his flocks, poetry passionately flowed,
like cool mountain springs, his legacy bestowed.
The 'Shepherd' of Passchendaele, is who he became,
a Welsh national treasure, now shrouded in fame.
At the Western front, 'Yr Arwr-The Hero' he finished,
during that futile war, passion never diminished.
His life was cut short, on the first day of battle,
At 'Pilckem Ridge' he fell, with brave comrades like cattle.
With brothers in arms, amongst gore engrained mud,
a shell to the stomach, released entrails and blood.
"Do you think I will live?" on his death bed he uttered,
no hope of survival, as bursting shells thundered.
The National Eisteddfod, 'Fleur De Lis' will you rise,
your poem 'Yr Arwr' has won our ultimate prize.
Not many knew 'Fleur De Lis' had sadly fallen,
tears and applause, was their ultimate calling.
The Bardic chair, was shrouded in black,
a posthumous honour, if only time could turn back.
Those poetic seeds sown, on pastures so green,
creating a man of compassion, never again to be seen.
This once humble shepherd, a lifelong desire achieved,
now laying peacefully at rest, in a far foreign field.
At 'Blessed Peace' our poetic Welsh prince lies alone,
his 'Black Bardic' chair, sits proudly, at his humble home.

 © Arthur Cole 2017 All Copyright Reserved